


Regicide

by FallingFlowers



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Bottom Merlin, Episode: s02e01 The Curse of Cornelius Sigan, First Time, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, MERLIN ISN'T DARK, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, So much angst, Top Arthur Pendragon, he's really not, honestly at first i wanted to write dark merlin and then i just couldn't so you get this as a result, its not as bad as it sounds!!!!, non-sexual choking, the smut won't be until the very end sorry y'all, yup thats the first tag its a warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-03-08 19:05:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingFlowers/pseuds/FallingFlowers
Summary: Uther was dead.News of the king's death rang through the entire kingdom, alighting fear in the hearts of some and relief in others. But it wasn't only the death of the king that spread rumors of the new ruler who would preside over Camelot, word had it that the king had been killed in cold blood. The new ruler's men had done it without any remorse, fueled with thoughts of magic returning to the kingdom in full force. After that day, an ominous presence stood over Camelot and would not recede, for even if the sun shined high, the citadel loomed over the citizens with its menacing aura.AKA, Merlin takes the crown.





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> helloooo!! here i am and here is this absolute MONSTER i've been working on for MONTHS ...and still haven't finished.  
> I made a decision to post the first chapter and will be posting the following chapter in about a week. I have this whole fic mostly finished but I need to write the last of it!! I just need a bit of a push and so here we are. I hope you love it!!

_Uther was dead._

News of the king's death rang through the entire kingdom, alighting fear in the hearts of some and relief in others. But it wasn't only the death of the king that spread rumors of the new ruler who would preside over Camelot, word had it that the king had been killed in cold blood. The new ruler's men had done it without any remorse, fueled with thoughts of magic returning to the kingdom in full force. After that day, an ominous presence stood over Camelot and would not recede, for even if the sun shined high, the citadel loomed over the citizens with its menacing aura.

They wondered who the new king was, and as the coronation hovered over their heads, they found no one truly knew who was to be the new king. Many thought it was the man who had caused all of the destruction of Camelot, who swept through the castle halls as if he really were the king, with greased hair and wearing his pelt of crow feathers over already black clothing. Servants addressed him as so, but whenever they pronounced him as  _my king_ , he would only laugh. He made no movement to declare who was king, however, confusing the entire kingdom.

There was also the fact that no one was allowed in the new king's chambers, except that man. Servants were not allowed to enter, and it caused curiosity to arise because of it. A few of them had tried to sneak in, once, but after they had successfully picked the lock and attempted to enter, the door blasted them away before re-locking itself. Afterward, the servants who had been injured could feel the power emanating from inside the room, as if threatening them to try again and see what would happen. They never did.

A week after the regicide, it was coronation day. Their new king would be revealed to them, and the castle servants scrambled in the kitchens and through the hallways to have everything prepared. They desperately hoped their new king wouldn't be a tyrant, wouldn't kill people for the sake of his own wicked game. From the door debacle, many of them had realized that the ban on magic was most likely going to be repealed, if the king used it himself. No one wanted to be particularly verbal about their opinions on magic, fearing they would start an argument between those followers of the new king and the others who still served under king Uther and his son, Arthur.

While Arthur's death hadn't been announced in the kingdom, many believed that he was dead. Only few were privy to the knowledge that he was now locked deep in the dungeons with orders to stay alive from the new king himself. There were several times he made an attempt on his own life, but Arthur found he couldn't kill himself even if he tried. A stolen sword from the guards shoved into his stomach only bounced off, without causing any pain whatsoever. It made him so angry, the inability to do anything for himself. He was being fed food for a king, his cell was more like a room at an inn, and though he couldn't leave, the knights under the new king had been forced to assure his comfort. His life was being decided by the man who had ordered his father's death. What did he want with Arthur? Why couldn't he just let him die?

Arthur was far from giving up, and lying on the fluffy, feather bed in his cell only made him more furious. Why was he being given all these luxuries when they'd killed his father? The only reason he could think of was that they wanted him to trust them before they killed him as ruthlessly as they had done his father.  _He didn't deserve to die, he was a fair and just king,_  Arthur thought. Aside from his father, he wondered for the people he cared for who were still alive—Morgana, Gwen,  _Merlin—_ he couldn't help but worry for all of their safeties. Morgana wasn't in the dungeons, hadn't been captured and Arthur dreaded to think of what they could have been doing to her.

Early that morning, Arthur was torn from his cell. He struggled in the knights' hold, but they wouldn't release him and he couldn't remove himself from their hold. He feared he'd grown weak, spending so many days in a cell. They dragged him through the halls of the castle like an animal on parade. Servants whispered to each other when they saw him, gasping at his dirty, unshaven state. Arthur tried his best to convey to them that the fight wasn't over, that he would take Camelot back for the Pendragon line—for his father. He couldn't understand why none of them looked ready to fight back alongside him.

They reached a set of doors that Arthur recognized immediately, his own chambers. The guards shoved him inside after opening the door, shutting it behind them. When Arthur banged on the doors and tried to open them, he found an invisible force shoving him back. It pushed him to the ground after he'd placed one hand on the door handle in an attempt to escape.  _Magic_ , Arthur thought,  _that must be how they've scared all the citizens into subservience._

He groaned out loud, unaware of the presence that stood behind him until the person chuckled. Arthur gritted his teeth and turned around, only to find a former servant, Cedric, behind him. He rushed toward him, fearing he was the one who had taken over Camelot and now had come to kill the crown prince himself—he should have listened to Merlin!—but Cedric stopped him, putting an arm out and inhibiting Arthur's ability to move before he could get closer than a few feet away.

"Why have you done this?! I am the  _crown prince_  of Camelot and I demand you release me and yield the throne this instant! You are nothing but a peasant, Cedric!" Arthur shouted, his anger manifesting in his voice. Cedric laughed in a deeper tone, before his lips raised into a smirk.

"My name, oh  _humble prince_ , is  _Lord Cornelius Sigan_ , and you would be smart to address me as so. I will let it go, just this once, of course. And you will soon find that I am  _not_  your king, no matter how much you may wish it. His coronation is today and he has requested your presence, though I don't know why. Had I been king, I would have killed you already, but I respect him for drawing it out and making your death a slow, torturous one." For a moment, Sigan stared at Arthur, and Arthur shut his eyes tightly and rid his mind of any information about Camelot that Sigan could use to his advantage, fearing that he could read his mind. "You may be able to hide from me,  _prince Arthur_ , but your will is nothing in comparison to the power of the young king."

"I will not give you any information about Camelot, even if you torture me." Arthur declared, knowing it was true and that he would die for his kingdom, if not endure the pain of death without the solace dying would finally offer. He glared at Sigan, who only laughed in response to his defiance.

"We will see, won't we?" Sigan said, walking around Arthur—who still couldn't move his limbs—and toward the doors that led out of his chambers. He opened them, standing by before speaking to Arthur. "A few servants will be in to help you bathe and dress, as the king wants you to be clean in his presence. He has asked that you wear Pendragon red; he's told me he  _adores_  the color on you." Arthur, though he couldn't see Sigan, could picture the smirk spreading on his face and wanted to choke him for it. He could imagine how easy it would be, to just wrap his hands around his neck and squeeze the life out of him. After the door shut, Arthur fell to the ground because the feeling in his body finally returned, and he couldn't hold up his own weight.

He groaned, pushing himself up to sit as a few servants entered the doors. Arthur didn't like looking weak, especially in front of his own people. They helped him up, putting him down in a chair before starting to prepare a bath.

Throughout it all, Arthur's mind couldn't help but wander back to wondering who the new king was. He even asked the servants as they were bathing him, and all of them responded that no one had even seen the new king yet, and he had been holed up in his chambers for the whole week. The only person who was allowed to enter and exit was Sigan, who had already told Arthur that he wasn't the king. He asked about Morgana, and they told him she hadn't been seen since the day of the regicide. It made Arthur's throat constrict, not knowing where she was, but he hoped she wasn't in any danger.

Then, he asked after Merlin, and they responded again that no one had seen him since that same day. In fact, many of them had assumed that he'd been in the dungeons with Arthur, considering his high position in the royal household and well, that he always seemed to find himself in some sort of trouble. After Arthur told them that he wasn't in the dungeons, the servants said that he'd probably escaped that night or early the next morning. It put his thoughts to rest, at least a little. 

When he asked of rebellion, all the servants were silent. Until one spoke, quivering. He was young, maybe had eighteen years on his bones at the highest.

"Well, my lord, the king has not yet revealed himself and we have yet to see if he is a tyrant. If he serves as a fair and just king, we see no reason-!" Arthur interrupted him, clenching his teeth.

"He  _killed my father!_  He does not deserve your respect!" The boy went on, however afraid he was of Arthur's wrath.

"With all due respect, my lord, the previous king claimed the throne himself, killing the king before him. As servants, we do not conspire to form a rebellion when these things happen, as they are likely to happen frequently." After he'd said that, he looked down at the floor in deference, as if hoping Arthur wouldn't backhand him for speaking out. Arthur sighed; what the servant had said did make sense for their perspective.

"I understand. As the king's son, I think in ways different from you. I apologize, and I thank you for allowing me to see your point of view." The servant nodded eagerly, smiling, and his smile reminded Arthur of Merlin.  _Where could he be? Why did he leave me?_  Arthur thought. His mood plummeted as he rose from the tub, stepping out as they wrapped a towel around his waist. He let them pull him over to his wardrobe, picking out his finest clothes and helping him put them. Somehow, they'd known to dress him in red even without him telling them. It was alright though, he didn't feel much for talking, stuck in his thoughts of Merlin.

After he was dressed, the servants all scurried out of the room, a few of them handling the bathtub. Once they'd gone, he thought he would have a bit of time to himself before the guards would come and collect him to take him to the great hall for the coronation. He quickly found he'd thought wrong, as the guards entered his chambers immediately after all the servants had left. They clasped his arms and dragged him out of the doors without speaking to him. He was forced to move his feet at their pace.

When they reached the great hall, the room was filled with nobles, knights, and servants, and there was a constant chatter around him. Arthur had no doubt that they were all muttering about who the new king could be, and whether he would rule peacefully or extend harm over the entire kingdom. His guards brought him up to the front of the hall, on the right of the aisle, in front of the throne the new king would sit on. For a second, Arthur wondered if one of his father's enemies had come to kill him in revenge and steal his throne; he couldn't ponder on it very long because trumpets were blaring in his ears, announcing the arrival of the king.

Arthur, even in his overwhelming curiosity, couldn't bring himself to turn around and look. He kept his head forward, locked on the throne, where he knew the king would stand once he'd walked down the aisle. First, he heard the whispers of the people around him when the new king entered. He couldn't distinguish any words, just heard a few gasps that weren't kept well hidden. His eyes stayed locked on the place where Geoffrey now stood, waiting for the king to come so he could bestow the crown and repeat the necessary oath.

When the king finally came into Arthur's line of sight, he had to hold in a gasp himself. He would know that dark hair anywhere, those  _ears_. Even if he hadn't said anything,  _Merlin_  turned to look at him anyway. His face was void of any emotion, any expression whatsoever. He looked at Arthur as if he weren't viewing anything mildly important at all, before turning his face and looking at Geoffrey. Sigan arrived next to Merlin, standing off to the side.

Arthur was angry.  _How could he do this?! All this time, I'd thought he was a loyal servant, but all he'd wanted was the crown. He killed my father!_ He thought, struggling in the hands of the guards.

"YOU'RE A  _TRAITOR_!" Arthur yelled, continuing to pull away from his guards in an attempt to get to Merlin and  _kill him._ Arthur wanted to  _kill him_ , how could he dare to betray Arthur's trust after they'd known each other for so long? Merlin had killed  _his father._ He would never forgive him for this if he lived long enough, he would kill Merlin himself to take the crown back. At his words, he'd caught Merlin's attention, who stayed silent but continued to look at him as he struggled in front of the entire hall.

Somehow, Arthur was able to pull away from the guards and headed straight for Merlin, thirsty for his blood. He reached his hands out to choke him as he approached, but Merlin casually put a hand out and he lost feeling in his limbs, and was unable to move.

 _It was the same thing Sigan had done to him in his chambers_.

"You have magic?!" Arthur yelled. "You're not only a traitor, but also a liar and a sorcerer! How could you betray your king when he was kind to you!" The words underneath Arthur's statement were what he truly wanted to say, but knew he could not. He would not.  _How could you betray me? Wasn't I kind to you?_

Merlin motioned to the guards, who came over and held Arthur's arms again, restraining him. They took him back to his previous spot, and it was then that Arthur found that though his mouth was moving and he felt as if he were speaking, no sound was coming from his mouth. His eyes widened. Then, Merlin motioned to Sigan and the two of them spoke in low tones Arthur wasn't able to overhear, even though the entire hall was completely silent after Arthur's outburst. He couldn't even bring himself to feel embarrassed about looking like a fool in front of the entire kingdom, he was sure they would understand the furious rage which came with finding that his  _manservant_ had killed his father and claimed the throne.

After Sigan retreated to his place, the coronation officially began. Arthur tried not to think about how he was supposed to be the one claiming the throne, not  _Merlin._ His father would still be alive if Merlin wasn't the king, and then Arthur wouldn't even need to claim the throne. He couldn't believe how  _stupid_ he'd been, trusting Merlin with anything and everything in his life. There were a few things he'd told him that easily gave Merlin openings to kill the king, to take Camelot for his own. He'd shared secrets about the vaults and the dungeons, about himself and his father. Arthur wished he could take it all back, never have his father hire Merlin as his servant in the first place.

Quickly, he found the coronation over, and then Merlin rose with the crown on his head and turned to face the crowds. The people began to clap, but Merlin quieted them with a raise of his hands. He looked out at the people,  _his people_ , and Arthur thought he could almost see some sort of emotion on his still-blank face.

"As your new king, my first act is to permanently abolish the ban on magic!" Merlin's voice boomed over the hall, clearly having been loudened with some sort of magical spell. "From this day on, let an era of peace reign over the kingdom!" The statement caused a roaring applause, pebbled with hoots and shouts of  _"Long live the king! Long live the king!"_

Arthur had no idea what was going on. How could the people bow so easily to the change in rule? Merlin may have initially promised peace, but how likely was it that they would achieve it? And Merlin- Merlin didn't know how to rule a state! He would fall to the opponents easily, cowering like the wimp Arthur knew he was. But... did he  _really_  know Merlin? He didn't, Arthur realized. All he'd known was a few aspects of the personality Merlin had claimed to have, nothing close to what had made him kill the king and claim the crown. It had all been a hoax.

Arthur had barely realized all the citizens had filed out of the room, now that the coronation was over. The guards still held him, but they brought him over, directly in front of Merlin's throne. Merlin waved a hand and the spells he'd placed on Arthur disappeared, as did his guards' hold on him. He fell to his knees, unable to move after feeling came back to his limbs. He looked up and saw Merlin nod at the guards to exit the room. Sigan stood in the background, but Merlin kept his eyes on Arthur, who was kneeling before him.

"Leave us." Merlin said, addressing Sigan. His voice was soft, almost wavering.

"But my lord, Emrys, you shouldn't be left alone with a rebellious prisoner." Sigan protested.

"I think we both know I am completely capable of handling myself,  _Cornelius_. If you would, please." He motioned to the doors, and with a sigh, Sigan left the hall. Arthur had never heard Merlin speak so formally, it felt unnatural and frightened him, a bit. If this was how Merlin always spoke, Arthur was afraid to find out what horrors lingered under the persona of the Merlin he used to know.

Once the door shut behind Sigan, Merlin sighed. His shoulders dropped before he stood from his throne, and stepped down so he stood right in front of Arthur. He had been so close the whole time, but Arthur found now was the only time he'd really gotten a good look at what the Merlin he knew had turned into.

His robes were the same deep blue as his eyes, Arthur noticed. They had underlying designs that wouldn't be able to be seen from far away, swirls that were only a shade deeper than the rest of the cloth. There were spots of a royal purple on the buttons, indicating his new rank, and a slight tinge of gold at his neckline. When Arthur's eyes reached Merlin's face he finally found an emotion portrayed on it, rather than the blankness that had existed through the entire coronation.

 _Exhaustion_.

It was written on his face like the title of a book. His eyes were red and there were dark circles beneath them, his skin was paler than usual, and it had a yellow tint. For a moment, Arthur reverted back to his old self and desired to ask Merlin what was wrong, and how could he get a smile out of him? But things were different now. This wasn't the Merlin he'd joked with and comforted in times of need, this man had  _killed his father_.

Merlin flinched.

"For the record, I didn't kill your father. That was Sigan and his men." He claimed, a frown on his face.

"Did you just  _read my mind?!_  How dare you! You have no right!" Arthur declared.

"Yes, I do, Arthur. I'm your king now." Merlin ran a hand over his face, as if he was tired of Arthur's antics. Arthur decided he would do a lot more to make sure Merlin was even more exhausted by the time he was done with him. But before he could think further on it, he was reminded of the more important questions he had.

"Where's Morgana?" He questioned, hoping Merlin hadn't allowed any harm to come to her. He'd had a crush on her, once, hadn't he?

"She's fine. There's a lot you don't know, Arthur, and I'm not sure I want to tell you. Also I  _did_   _not_ have a crush on Morgana!"

"You can't just tell me she's fine and expect that to satisfy me. And stop reading my mind! Where  _is_  she?" Arthur's legs and arms were finally starting to feel normal, now, so he began to stand up. Immediately, Merlin came over and grabbed his arms to help, pulling him to fully stand on his own. It felt easy to slip into their old roles, as friends, but only on the outside. Arthur just wanted information, and if Merlin wanted to ignore the fact that he'd taken the crown from his father's hands, Arthur would let him to get that information. Afterward, Merlin stepped away, but stayed closer than before.

"She's in the forests of Essetir... with the Druids." Merlin was looking down at his feet, reluctant to share her whereabouts.

" _What?!_  I swear if you let any harm come to her, I will not only strip you of your crown when I kill you, I will tear you limb from limb." Arthur stated, trying to send his words with malice, but the threat felt more like their old banter than what he really meant it to be.

"This is what I meant, Arthur! You've been held back from so many secrets, and I don't know how to explain them to you." Merlin agonized, "There's so much you don't know." He whispered. Merlin looked up at Arthur, and Arthur grabbed him by the shoulders and gripped him tightly, looking into his eyes, searching for something,  _anything_  to show what Merlin was hiding.

"Tell me, then!" Arthur shook Merlin. Merlin stopped him, putting his hands over Arthur's, warming them for a few seconds before slipping them off his shoulders.

"Of course." Merlin said, "Arthur, Morgana has magic." Arthur went to interrupt, but Merlin continued before he could. "She found out a few months ago, and she was scared for her life, you have to understand. She didn't ask for this to happen, and she knew if Uther found out he would have killed her. She told me about it and... we had that in common. I have magic, Arthur. I've had it since I was born." Merlin took a deep breath. "After I, um, took over, I sent her to the Druids to allow her to grow her powers in a peaceful atmosphere. I swear to you, she's safe. You can even go visit her if you want."

"You would let a prisoner go alone?" Arthur scoffed.

"No, of course not, I would be going with you."

"How can I be sure you aren't lying to me,  _baiting me_ , so I go along with you and you kill me, after stabbing me in the back a  _second_   _time_."

"You can't." Merlin's shoulders drooped as he sighed.

"Then why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't." If possible, Merlin grew even smaller than he already was when his shoulders were dropped. Arthur's face fell into a frown.

"Why are you doing this, Merlin?" He asked, softly.

"I'm only doing what I absolutely must." Merlin swore. His knees grew weak, and he felt a sob start to edge up his throat, but he swallowed it down. It would do no good for a king to fall into pieces in front of his prisoner. Even if said prisoner used to be his best friend, whom he still cared for. Merlin had survived the week before he was king by focusing on paperwork and planning new strategies and speaking with Sigan about adding an assortment of sorcerers to the knights, but it seemed that one concerned look from Arthur—even if it was faked—was enough to shake him to his core.

"What else is there? It can't just be Morgana." Arthur said. He reached out, noticing Merlin's eyes were wet, but drew his hand back as soon as he noticed what he was doing.  _What am I thinking? This isn't the Merlin I've known for years,_ Arthur thought.

Merlin had heard that. He didn't let it show on his face, but he'd known that Arthur wasn't going to trust him after it all had gone down. He just hadn't been as prepared for it as he had initially thought he would be. Shouldn't his heart have hardened already? He knew he'd done the right thing, Uther was a tyrant who deserved to die for all the pain he'd caused, but was the hate Arthur would now harbor for him worth all that he had done?

"There's more, I just can't tell you yet." Merlin said, he knew his first official council meeting was in a few minutes, so he would have to save the rest of the details for another time.

"What? Why not?!" At the moment Arthur said that, the door to the hall opened and Sigan entered, stating that he apologized for interrupting his lord, but the meeting was about to start and everyone had already been gathered in the council room. Merlin thanked him and said that he would be out in a few moments, and after Sigan left, Merlin looked to Arthur.

"Listen, Arthur, I'm not going to hold you in the dungeons, not when you haven't done anything wrong. You're allowed in and out of your chambers and on the grounds, just don't stray too far, please? We can go see Morgana soon. Tonight, I want you to come to my chambers and I can tell you the rest, alright?" Merlin asked.

"Why are you giving me so much freedom? Prisoners always attempt to escape when they get the chance."

"There are guards everywhere, you wouldn't reach very far, especially since many of them have magic." Merlin sighed. "I'm sorry-,"

"You're  _sorry_? For what? Having my father killed, taking me as prisoner, hiding things from me? Taking over the whole of Camelot for your own personal gain?" Arthur drawled, in a bored tone. Merlin fumed, and he remembered how much he had hated Arthur on the first day they had met. He was arrogant and pompous, thinking he was the center of the world. Even though he had changed, it seemed that some of those traits still cleaved to Arthur's desperate soul.

" _I did what I had to do to protect my people_." He boomed, using magic to project his voice. His fists were clenched and he stared down at Arthur as if he towered over him, taking small steps toward him. " _You cannot daresay that you would not have done the same."_ Merlin's enraged, resounding footsteps out of the hall were barely heard to Arthur over the loud beating of his own heart.

The tension seeped out of his shoulders and he physically wilted, not knowing what to do.  _Merlin_ had magic, and had taken over Camelot, going against everything he had ever told Arthur. 

 _"I'd be happy to be your servant until the day I die."_ Arthur heard, in his head. It was strange, how quickly things changed when someone's true personality was revealed—how easily they could lie to you about the most important things. It would have been so much easier to handle Merlin taking over if they had never grown close; Arthur would have understood if he'd been an obedient manservant who only ever did as told, not trying to make himself suspicious. But the fact that it was  _Merlin_ , Merlin who had risked his life for Arthur so many times, thrown himself in death's way with the overgrown urge to  _protect_ , Arthur couldn't understand. What had gone wrong?

He dragged himself from the Great Hall and out to the courtyard, where the knights, some new and some old, were training. Arthur kept himself out of their line of sight, shuffling over to a tree a short distance away and sitting beneath it. He watched as they took turns practicing with different weapons, sparring one another at times. He recognized a few of the knights, but most of them he did not; Arthur understood the few he did recognize must have been those who had sworn fealty to Merlin, but the ones that had not... He wondered if Merlin had ordered them killed like he had the king.

Stuck in his thoughts, and the exhaustion that plagued him from his earlier conversation with Merlin, Arthur found his eyelids drooping of their own accord, and his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. He fell asleep like that, in the glittery sunlight shining down of him. It made his hair glow bright and his skin gleam, a true picture of tranquility and beauty.

When Merlin was passing through the courtyard a bit later, he saw Arthur's relaxed form, slumped against the tree in a sort of quiet serenity. He noticed the planes of Arthur's face, the shadows against them as the tree above him rustled in the slight wind. The allure he posed at that moment could have been akin to that of a fae, Merlin knew, but the fae were no match for Arthur, who exuded an air of golden light at all times.

Merlin _yearned._


	2. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: NON-SEXUAL CHOKING
> 
> while this does sound bad, it's not as bad as it could be? but still, please be advised and if it bothers you please don't read it
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

When Merlin arrived in his chambers that night, he was surprised to find Arthur already there, sitting at the desk. He was paging through some of the paperwork Merlin had done earlier, and he looked as if he was so deeply analyzing it that he hadn't noticed Merlin come in. When he walked up to the desk, Arthur finally glanced at him, immediately putting the papers back into the initial piles. It was difficult, as he had scattered them all over the top area of the desk to read them, so he was scrambling to remember where he'd put them. Merlin chuckled, snapping a finger and watching as the parchments stacked themselves correctly on the sides of his desk. Arthur looked up at him.

"You're... relegating more food to the citizens of the lower town? How? The stores have only ever held enough-,"

"It's magic, Arthur. Magic lets us make sure no one starves, that everyone can eat in excess if they want to because we'll always have a prosperous yield." Merlin smiled, just a slight stretch of his lips, hoping Arthur understood that he was  _trying_ to do good, to make the peoples' lives better.

"Oh." Arthur said, a blank look on his face, before clearing his throat. "Alright then, get on with it. I want to know everything."

Merlin sat opposite Arthur, suppressing the urge to say,  _"You can't address me like that,"_  even though he knew it would have brought him great joy. The way they sat, their new roles didn't seem to fit. Merlin, with his fancy robes in the chair facing the desk, and Arthur in a casual tunic and trousers sitting at the desk as if he were in charge. It resembled their old lives too much for Merlin's comfort. He took a breath, looking at Arthur's face and finding an expression of impatience.

"I've had magic since I was born, you already know. So, when I came to Camelot, I had to hide it from you and everyone else. Do you know what's it's like to hide away an aspect of yourself, one that you can't control, from everyone you know and love on fear of death if found?" Merlin said, before continuing. A short glance at Arthur's face told him he was wary, but still listening. "I did this to protect all of the innocent people who would have been killed by Uther during the rest of his reign. This includes Morgana... except there's something you don't know about Morgana." Merlin looked at Arthur, straight into his eyes. "She's Uther's daughter, and your half-sister."

At first, Arthur's jaw went slack, taking in the information presented with shock. He couldn't believe it, Merlin knew, but it was the truth and he needed to know. He deserved to know. Then, his hands clenched into fists and he gritted his teeth.

"You're lying! You're a  _sorcerer!"_ Arthur proclaimed, as if Merlin's magic was an explanation for why everything he said was a lie. "That would mean that... she's heir to the throne... you  _must_  be lying!"

"No, I'm not. You can talk to Morgana about it when you see her. Your father sired her as a bastard, and it was why he would never have let her have the throne." Merlin floated a pitcher and a chalice over to the desk from across the room, pouring himself some water. Arthur's shock, at this point, had leveled to furrowing his eyebrows at Merlin while thinking about what he had said. "Shall I continue?" Merlin asked, after taking a sip from the cup. Arthur shot him a dirty look, scrunching up his nose the slightest bit, but nodded.

Arthur didn't believe what Merlin had said. He figured that all the sorcerer wanted to do was find some loose semblance of trust for him still lingering in Arthur's heart from when he'd cared deeply for Merlin. It wasn't going to work, and he would make sure he didn't believe the false truths Merlin would be spewing at him just so he would fall at his feet.

"Arthur..." Merlin watched the water swirl around in the cup, "You're not going to believe the next thing I tell you, but I swear to you that it is true. This isn't something I would lie to you about." He took a deep breath, and Arthur's eyes were drawn to his rose pink lips, a droplet of water on the edge of them before Merlin licked it away. He shook himself to his senses, looking at Merlin directly, waiting for him to begin. "Your father was a tyrant. I know he's been painted as a great king, and he brought peace to the lands, I know he did. But his never-ending war on magic... it was unforgivable. He killed children, Arthur.  _Children._ Who can do no evil but simply being misguided. Do you know why he hated magic so much in the first place?"

Arthur thought for a moment. Afterward, he realized that he really  _didn't_  know what drove his father's hatred. Ever since he'd been a child it had always been,  _"The use of magic is punishable by death,"_  and that had been that. Even when he'd been young, he was privy to thoughts of death early. His father kept him from seeing the executions until he was twelve, but it hadn't stopped him from hearing their screams. He could still hear them now, in the back of his mind. The screams of every single person his father had killed were embedded into him.

When he'd been younger, just barely thirteen, he was afraid of the darkness and what it might bring. The screams in the back of his head had plagued his mind, pushed on with faces and tears to go along with them. Eventually, he grew into his fitting role of prince, and the deaths of people who had committed any crimes grew mundane to him. There always seemed to be someone on the loose, whether it was for sorcery or thievery, and the lines between them grew blurry. Each death was just another after the one before, and his emotions hardened to fit the persona his father had always wanted him to. His own hatred of sorcery was entirely because his father had molded him to it, and now, Arthur knew no different.

"Arthur? Are you alright?" Merlin reached out and covered his hand over Arthur's where it lied on the desk. Arthur noticed the touch, and it was what dragged him out of his thoughts. It was warm, Merlin's hand. His slim fingers were spread across the back of Arthur's hand, some of them reaching to touch the edge of his wrist.

Arthur pulled his hand away as soon as he realized. Was Merlin trying to seduce him? Was it all some sort of elaborate plan to parade him around as some of sort of sick pet? When he looked at Merlin, though, all he saw was a redness rising on his cheeks as he slowly pulled his hand away from where it had fallen onto the desk. His eyes, when they rose from where he'd been focused on the desk, looked into Arthur's with a gaze of concern.

"Continue." Arthur coughed. Merlin looked pained.

"Arthur, your parents couldn't conceive. This was before the purge, when magic was still legal. Your father... he..." Merlin gulped, "he asked a sorceress to help your mother conceive you. She told him that the world would need to restore its balance afterward, that there was always a price to pay, but they were successful and he heard none of it. So, when you were born, your mother died due to the inability of your father to heed all of the warnings. You were a life and she was the price."

Silence. Arthur did not speak, only bore his eyes into the floor as his rage grew higher and higher. He stood from his chair, still having his eyes locked on the ground, and Merlin stumbled to follow. Arthur stepped around the desk, and over to Merlin before lifting his head.

The rage shown on his face was something Merlin had never seen before. There was a vein popping out of his neck, his eyes were wide and focused on his target, and his teeth were clenched so hard Merlin was afraid they'd shatter like glass. No matter how many times he'd angered Arthur in the past, whether it was for being late or saving his life, it did not compare to what Arthur was experiencing right then. He began to take steps toward Merlin, who took steps backward, keeping a few feet of space between them.

"How can you  _dare_ speak such lies about my father! My mother's death was a birthing problem and had nothing to do with the usage of magic! How could you think I would be so stupid to believe such brazen lies?!" Arthur yelled, his voice rising to volumes Merlin never believed was possible without a spell. They continued walking backward into the center of the room.

"It's true, Arthur! You can't blame me for your father's mistakes. They were his and he's already been forced to pay for them!"

"My father was a  _good man!"_ Arthur tackled Merlin to the floor, pushing his head to the ground and watching it bang against the floor. The moan that rose from the back of Merlin's throat at the pain spurred him on. He wrapped his fingers around Merlin's neck and squeezed. Merlin's eyes widened and he gasped for the air that was blocked off from him. Arthur stared down, unrelenting. Merlin blinked heavily and reached out to his sides, as if searching for something to grab hold of. His hands grasped around on the floor and came up with nothing.

Merlin's eyes focused on Arthur's rage filled face above him. The anger took away from his beautiful golden hair, his tanned skin, the light that burst from every inch of him that was like sitting in the sun on a breezy day—warm and comfortable. But then, the sky darkened, the sun disappeared, the breeze stopped, all the oxygen was removed from the air, and Merlin was brought back to Arthur's rage above him, asphyxiating him.

Merlin gasped over and over again, and Arthur could only watch as his limbs flailed in an attempt to regain control over his own body. Suddenly, however, his flailing stopped, and instead, one of his hands reached up toward Arthur. It was shaky, but it landed on his cheek and held for a few seconds. Then, Merlin's thumb started brushing over his skin, and when Arthur looked down at him again, he had stopped trying to gasp for breath, but rather held still. Merlin looked up at him with a sad sort of smile, a tiny stretch of his lips on either side, and a tear glistened down from his eye.

 _Why isn't he using magic to free himself?!_ Arthur thought, and then immediately let go. Merlin coughed and gasped beneath him, but Arthur was staring at his hands as he stretched them out and his fingers curled back again, as if he still had them wrapped around Merlin's neck. He stood, looking down at Merlin before backing away, halfway across the room and turning around at looking at the walls, the bookshelves, anything to take away from the fact that his entire body was shaking and that his own hands wouldn't follow his commands.

"Arthur?" Merlin rasped, from the floor behind him.  _What had he done?_  That voice was going to be scarred until he was fully healed, which would take a month at the least. Arthur was sure the bruises on his throat would be showing within the hour, and they would be a constant reminder of the act he'd committed. It was Merlin.  _Merlin,_ who smiled too much and had big ears and never listened to anything Arthur said, but it was fine because they cared for each other. He would never be able to hurt him, even if he  _had_  committed the heinous act of killing Arthur's father himself.

"Why- why didn't you stop me? With magic? You could've stopped me but you just..." Arthur said, frantically, fumbling over his words and repeating them in order to get it right. When a hand touched his shoulder, he turned around and flinched away, stepping away from Merlin as he looked at him again.

"I... didn't know if it was my destiny to die at your hand. If it was, I..." Merlin stopped talking when he noticed Arthur was shaking from head to toe, and there were tears falling down his face, hitting the floor at their feet. "Arthur?" Merlin took a step closer but Arthur only backed away further.

"No! Don't come near me." Merlin took another step. This time Arthur did not move. "Merlin! Please, don't-!" And then Merlin's hand was pulling his waist and his other was brushing over Arthur's back, and Arthur succumbed, falling into his arms. He wrapped his arms around a strong, hard body and leant his head on Merlin's left shoulder. The tears continued to flow. They were silent; Arthur had been taught to hold in his sobs from a young age. He was the  _crown prince_  and he was not allowed to show the weaknesses of a commoner. If he did, how would he have led people through their own difficulties?

"It's alright, Arthur. You're alright." Merlin said, shifting his hand to rest in Arthur's hair. He petted over it, sending calming waves of magic through his fingers to bring Arthur back to himself.

"But... you're..." Arthur murmured, but Merlin shushed him, and then he shut his eyes tightly, wanting to be away from his own horrendous actions. Absentmindedly, he hugged himself tighter to Merlin's body, craving the comfort he found when wrapped in the warmth of his arms.

"No, Arthur, I'm fine, see?" Merlin said, and Arthur lifted his head up and opened his eyes to find out. Merlin's neck was void of any marks, completely bare and pale as it had always been, even when it had been hiding under neckerchiefs. For a moment, Arthur wondered if he'd been hallucinating when he was choking Merlin, but realized he wouldn't feel so guilt-ridden if he had been. When he looked at Merlin with a question on his tongue, he didn't have the chance to ask it. "It's magic, Arthur..." Merlin said, softly, like he was sharing some sort of secret and nervous for Arthur's reaction.

"Oh." Arthur said. He couldn't quite find anything else to say, but he pulled away from Merlin's body and wiped the tears from his eyes. Suddenly, it felt like the distance between them that had been erased was there again. Merlin blinked at him, as if he was expecting something more. If he was, he didn't say anything about it, but his face tinged only the tiniest shade of pink, which Arthur wouldn't have been able to notice if he hadn't been staring at him. At the sight, he shook himself out of his nonexistent daydream, knowing there was something he had to say. "I'm sorry, Merlin." As genuine as he tried to make it sound, it just didn't work.

"It's quite alright," Merlin said, an uncomfortable smile only barely gracing his face. "I completely understand, I mean, with your father and all, and me, and Sigan and being the prince and I'm sure you haven't had the most comfortable experience and that's my fault, you can have your chambers back and if you need anything all you would have to do is ask me and I'll have it done no matter what it is–," he rambled on, the rest of his words flying right over Arthur's head.

" _Merlin_." Arthur interrupted. He knew Merlin rambled when he was nervous—at least that was one aspect of his personality that hadn't changed. " _I'm sorry_." And Merlin shut up, suddenly looking shy and timid, and nothing like the King of Camelot should look. Arthur found himself wondering how Merlin had handled it all, even with the help of Sigan. Taking over an entire kingdom wasn't an easy feat, especially when the knights of Camelot were the most noble men, who fought only for their king.

"Really, Arthur. It's okay." Merlin confirmed, raising his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. "Why don't you head to your chambers? I'll schedule a date to meet with the Druids in about a week."

All Arthur could do was agree and leave without as much as a goodbye. Merlin sighed as soon as the door shut, flinging off his robes in anger and climbing into his bed. He lifted his arm and turned his wrist down, and all the candles in the room slowly diminished until he was left in complete darkness. Turning onto his side, he tried to ignore how the feather mattress felt wrong and the fluffed pillows were too soft. The covers were too smooth, the sheets too silky, and Merlin—Merlin couldn't figure out why.

Somehow, he slept.

~•~

_Hands tickled his neck, brushing over his ears and down to the bare skin of his shoulders. Merlin shivered, though the hands were warm and soothing; they alighted something deep within him. The fingers skimmed over his chest, not bothering to avoid his sensitive nipples, making him croon for more. They ran down to his stomach, tracing indefinable patterns over his skin. He let out a soft giggle at the ticklish feeling of it, and the voice of the person who had been touching him rose into a giggle as well. Then, he reached for Merlin's sides and tickled him without holding back, and Merlin laughed harder than he ever had before._

_When they stopped, they slid lower on Merlin's skin, over Merlin's pants, the only clothing he wore. They purposely evaded Merlin's erection, leaving him to whine while those hands roved down milky legs, fingers skimming the soles of his feet, before retreating back up. The hands were rough, Merlin noticed, hours of hard work must have earned the calluses that littered them. They slid under Merlin's knees, before gliding back up over his thighs and only just skimming the sides of his cock through his pants before drawing away completely. Merlin blindly reached out and begged for more._

_And then the hands had clasped his neck, and he couldn't breathe. The voice that had giggled now laughed with a cruel tone in his ears, a consistent echo that would never leave him alone. He gasped for air and flailed his arms, searching for something to latch onto, to beg for this not to happen. The hands would not leave their place around his neck, and the person who they belonged to seemed as if they had suddenly disappeared._

When Merlin awoke, he was soaked in sweat. Sitting up, he breathed in several loud, deep breaths and reached up to touch his neck. There was no pain, but the feeling had been so real, he never wanted to relive it. It felt like they were still there, clasped around him even if they were not choking. It was confining, as if he was stuck to roam the world with a pair of disembodied hands clutching his neck at all times.

His throat constricted, and a sob began to arise in the back of it. When it became too much to hold back, there was nothing he could do but let it happen; even if magic could cure physical pains, mental anguish was left behind in their stead. He sobbed, hugging the blankets to his chest and wondering if this suffering would be worth it, in the end. Would Arthur ever grow to trust Merlin, again? Even if he did, Merlin was not hopeful that Arthur could ever love him, not anymore. It would be impossible now, to dream of warm nights tangled between silk sheets without seeing the hate in Arthur's eyes, directed at Merlin.

 _Of course he would hate me,_ Merlin thought,  _He thinks I killed his father and stole the throne. Why did I ever expect anything different?_

He lied back on his bed, curling onto his side as he sniffled and a few more sobs escaped his throat. In the back of his mind, he stayed aware of the fact that no one could hear him, and he had no one to turn to in his only hour of need. Fisting the sheets, Merlin let out a loud cry that surely would've been able to be heard at least down the hall where Arthur slept—had he not already silently cast a sound muffling spell beforehand. The only person who heard Merlin's sobbing was himself, and all it did was make him feel more alone.


	3. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo!! here we are again, with the next installment! hope you love it!!

The next morning, Arthur awoke alone in his chambers. It took him a moment to realize where he was and what had happened, still confused after his week spent in the dungeons and the eventful day before. Merlin's face lingered in his mind, from when he was being crowned to when he was helpless with Arthur's hands around his throat. At that moment, it had seemed like no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't have been able to kill Merlin. It had never been something that he'd wanted to do, so he couldn't follow through with it. And Merlin's eyes, weak, staring up at him with the same look of idolization he used to have... there was nothing Arthur could've done but let go.

He sighed, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. There were no servants present, and he wasn't about to go find one when he doubted he had that right. Even if Merlin didn't treat him like a prisoner, it wouldn't change that he felt like one. There were no set boundaries and Arthur didn't know how far they would stretch for him, if there would ever be an end to what he could ask of Merlin. After last night, he didn't know what to do. There was no chance for escape because Merlin  _wanted_ him here, for whatever sick, twisted reason he had.

As he rose from his bed, Arthur realized he had no duties because he was no longer a prince. While once he would've been happy about such a fact, it no longer brought him joy when his most loyal friend had taken away his own birthright. Arthur was no one, now, except for the last male of the Pendragon line—not that it meant anything, anymore.

_What am I going to do?_

~•~

"Gaius, the more I think about it, the more I realize how bad of an idea this was. I can't run a  _kingdom,_ I've already had three meetings today and I'm afraid my brain is going to turn into porridge." Merlin complained, sitting at the table in Gaius's workroom and holding his head in his hands. "And Arthur... I don't know what to do. His father has taught him so much wrong and I don't think I'll ever be able to change that." He had glimpses of his dream from the night before, and a chill ran through his body at the thought of it. It wasn't something he wanted to tell Gaius about because all it would do was make him worry, and Merlin didn't want Gaius bearing the same strain that weighted down his own shoulders.

"Does he know Sigan was the one who killed the king? Perhaps if he knew you were not the one who–,"

"Of course he knows, Gaius. That was the first thing I said to him, but it doesn't matter, all he sees me as is the sorcerer who killed his father for some sort of cold-blooded revenge. And you know Arthur, Gaius. He's stubborn and won't listen to me! He never has, and he's not going to start now." Merlin complained.

"Well, you're not going to be able to change his mind if you avoid him now, are you?" Gaius responded, lifting an eyebrow in that condescending way that Merlin had come to respect and detest simultaneously.

"Of course not, but I don't know what to do!"

"Merlin," Gaius sighed, stepping away from whatever potion he was concocting and wiping get his hands. "Maybe you should start with showing him you haven't done this for yourself,  but for the people. Once he understands, he won't harbor hate for you anymore."

"I hope you're right, Gaius..." Merlin said, before waving goodbye to him and walking out, trying to mentally prepare himself for the long line of meetings he had that afternoon.

~•~

Three days passed in the citadel for Arthur. Merlin had not spoken to him once since the coronation, but he was all Arthur could think about. Besides thinking too much, Arthur had spent his days lazing about in his chambers reading for a lack of anything better to do. Sometimes he ventured out into the courtyard or went to watch the knights on the training grounds, but there was no one he could speak to, and he was very well known to be a prisoner to the king. No one wanted to be seen consorting with a prisoner, much less when he was the ex-prince of Camelot.

In the kingdom, nothing had really changed after the rule had been handed over. The citizens seemed happier, even, as Arthur watched Merlin go on a walk from the courtyard to the lower town, smiling at everyone, petting animals and making children laugh in the streets. He even performed a few tricks with the aid of magic, showing the people that if the king himself was using it, it was truly to be accepted back into Camelot.

Meanwhile, Arthur groaned at the sight in both anger and jealousy, knowing it should have been  _him_ who walked through the streets like that, kind to everyone, unlike his father had been. Though he had respected his father and loved him, known his ideals and carried them through, there were some things Arthur had never agreed with. Respect was to be earned and not forcefully taken with fear as its guide, and in some way, somehow, Merlin had received it in less than the span of a week.

Arthur watched as several young children crowded around Merlin, reaching for his hands and grabbing onto his robes, before he gave in and picked two of them up into his arms. The rest of them attached themselves to his legs, latched on as he tried to take steps, making all of the children giggle, followed by Merlin breaking into laughter as well. It was endearing, really, as the two toddlers Merlin held is his arms pulled on his hair and ears, placed sloppy, wet kisses on his cheeks before he let them down and they ran back to their mothers. It had no right to be so adorable.

He wanted to be angry, he did, but he was so  _exhausted_ of thinking about his father's death and how Morgana could have been doing. Gaius had been in to see him, giving him the salve for his bad shoulder the day before, and Arthur hadn't made a single comment on Merlin's new position. Even then, Gaius had given him a gentle look, which said  _"please understand why this was necessary,"_ Arthur didn't have the will to say anything in response. It was better that way.

And Arthur watched, as Merlin, smiling, kissed the last toddler's forehead before she ran back to her mother, wondering how everything had changed so much and yet somehow not at all.

~•~

On the fourth day, Arthur was forcefully dragged from his chambers in the early hours of the morning. He only wore a pair of breeches, and the guards didn't let him stop to even put on a tunic. Sigan stared him down with a smirk, walking in front of him as two guards gripped him arms and pulled him along between them. While he wanted to struggle, it was futile because of how tightly they gripped his arms, sure to leave painful bruises in their stead. As they hauled him through the hallways and toward the throne room, Arthur knew he wasn't going to like whatever was going to happen.

The throne room doors were pushed open, and the crowd of people gasped at the sight of him. As if they hadn't seen him already, he thought, when he'd made himself viewable whenever he left his rooms. He hadn't been hiding, and why they felt the need to be so dramatic at the sight of him made his blood simmer beneath his skin. When they brought him up to the throne, at the king's feet, the guards threw him down as if he were a lowly, dirty criminal, who had no place in life. His arms ached, but he would not let the pain hinder him from finding out what was going on.

" _Cornelius,_ " Merlin addressed, a hint of rage in his voice, "I told you to retrieve him, not  _force him_ to his knees. It would be wise of you to remember your station." Arthur looked up, and Merlin looked down at him with sympathy, glancing at the already purpling bruises on his arms. He held out a hand for Arthur to take, but when it wasn't taken and Arthur tried to rise by himself, Merlin sighed and grabbed Arthur's hand to pull him up. Afterward, he stepped forward and placed his hands over Arthur's arms softly, whispering a few words with his glowing golden eyes and making the bruises disappear.

Then, Merlin turned to his right, and Arthur followed his gaze and was astonished to find  _his knights,_ chained at the wrists, littered in dirt and grime. They looked at Arthur in a similar way, unbelieving he was really there. Leon, at the front of the group, gazed on Arthur as if there was no way he was safe and clean, wondering why he was alive in the first place.

"Arthur?" Leon whispered, and now that the crowds had become so eerily silent, everyone could hear the tremor in his voice. Arthur wanted to know what they'd gone through, why they looked as if they had fought for their lives. Arthur broke his eyes away from Leon and turned to look at Merlin. He stepped up very close and spoke only to him.

"What happened?" Arthur asked, needing to know if  _Merlin_  had caused the men such pain because maybe it would help him learn to hate again.

"When they did not swear fealty to me, I let them leave Camelot. I don't know what happened to them, but I think they went looking for you before they found that you were still here. They probably thought that you were being held hostage, so they marched through the gates and started fighting my knights, demanding to know where you were. After they were caught, they were brought here and wanted to see you were alive." Merlin said, glancing at Arthur's face for any signs of how he would react.

"What are you going to do to them?" Arthur asked, fearing for his men's lives. Charging into the new king's kingdom in the name of the old king was punishable by death, and was labeled similarly to treason. His men were brave and stupidly loyal to him, and though they all used to have good relationships with Merlin, after his takeover they likely felt the same amount of betrayal and anger as Arthur initially had.

"What do you  _want_  me to do to them?" Merlin looked at him, and Arthur looked back at his face. He was being trusted for a major decision at the king's hands, he was being  _given_ trust, even though he was no more than a prisoner with certain rights. Merlin was giving this to him, to tell him something, but Arthur couldn't figure out what it was. Was it the feeling of a choice? Was Merlin trying to show him that he wasn't a tyrant, that he took his citizen's needs into account?

Either way, Arthur had missed his men. And from what he'd seen, Merlin didn't look like he was going to be declaring war soon, having brought so much happiness to the kingdom in such a short amount of time. He  _knew_  his men. They would not rest until they saw Arthur on the throne once again. Nor would they stay away if they felt he was in danger; there was only one option to be had.

"I... I think you should ask them to swear fealty again." Arthur noticed Merlin's eyebrow raise, questioning. "Tell them I want them to." Merlin nodded, turning away from Arthur.

"As through the desire of Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, I ask you to swear fealty to me once again." Merlin addressed the knights and the court, who gasped at the use of Arthur's old title. "If you do not, you would be free to leave the city with an escort on the promise that you will not attempt invasion once again. If you were to stage another attempt I would be forced to follow the laws and arrest you." Merlin's blatant use of Arthur's title caused a soft murmur to arise in the room. It made Arthur tense.

In the laws, it stated that a change in rule took away all power from the former leaders. The new ruler had the ability to choose a new line of succession, whether it be from his children or an heir chosen from another family. An announcement of someone as crown prince from a ruler instilled that prince into the law. Senselessly, Merlin had just told the entire court that Arthur was to succeed him if he were to die.

Arthur didn't know if Merlin was an idiot or if he had planned it. When he realized that the edges of Merlin's lips had drawn up slightly, he  _knew_ it had been done on purpose. His jaw dropped, following the same reaction that everyone else had had. Leon stared between him and Merlin, clearing his throat and sharing a few glances with the other knights before he looked back at the king. They all dropped to one knee simultaneously.

"We swear fealty to King Emrys of Camelot." Leon said, dropping his head to a bow. Merlin let a smile grace his features.

"Thank you, Sir Leon. I trust that my kingdom will rest safely in your hands." Merlin said as the knights rose. Then, he turned to his advisor. "Sigan, please release them and lead them back to their old chambers. Make sure they are comfortable and they have whatever they may need. If any issue arises, please come directly to my chambers to address it."

And then Merlin swept out the doors to the great hall, his long robes dragging along behind him like a true monarch. Arthur ran after him immediately, even when he heard Leon calling his name behind him.

~•~

Merlin arrived in his chambers, leaving the door open behind him as Arthur followed him inside, panting. He didn't know what he was going to say, but Merlin had made his decision almost spontaneously. He'd been wanting to show Arthur that he didn't need to be cooped up all day in his rooms, but all he really wanted was for Arthur to trust him. Giving him title of Crown Prince in front of the entire court was bound to change something, make him realize that Merlin wasn't eternally evil, or  _something._ He hoped it would do  _something_.

The court would give him a hard time but he  _needed_  to know if it would be worth it.

" _Why?_ " Arthur asked. Merlin turned around, coming face to face with a questioning, shirtless Arthur, and he had no idea what to say. He couldn't meet Arthur's eyes, so he looked at anything else. "Merlin.  _Why did you do it?"_  At the sound of his voice, Merlin's eyes were inevitably drawn back to Arthur's face and form. It had been a impulsive decision, and he'd done it because he could no longer bear the thought of Arthur hating him. Nor could he bear the memory of hands around his throat, desiring to kill him.

The reminder of his dreams made a chill run down his spine, igniting a shiver through his body. Merlin couldn't stand it, couldn't stand Arthur looking at him like that, with pure confusion that didn't mask any hate behind it.

"Please, leave me." Merlin said, looking away again, toward the ground. Arthur didn't move. "Get out." Arthur still refused to take even a step away. "Arthur,  _get out!"_  Merlin alighted his hand with fire without a word, and brought his golden, glowing eyes to meet Arthur's once again as he held his flame-adorned hand up threateningly. Whatever had delayed Arthur's mind slipped away as his fear of magic caught up with him, and he scrambled out the doors.

Merlin let his hand, cold now, drop down to his side. He didn't know what  _to do._ Arthur would never trust him if he kept being pushed away. Sending him away had been the wrong decision, when all he'd wanted to know was why Merlin had named him crown prince. Maybe it was better this way, though, when Merlin didn't even know why he did it. How was he going to bring Arthur to his side when he repeatedly kept doing the wrong thing?

He had to do something to make it right,  _he had to._

~•~

The few days preceding the day of the Druid camp visit, Arthur spent most of his time with his knights. They welcomed him back onto the training field with ease after being reinstated themselves. The newer knights took to him at a slower pace, but quickly enough after Merlin's announcement, feeling that Arthur was now on their side. Quite a few of them even had magic, though they had separate sessions for that, Arthur was glad. The sight of magic still made him flinch.

Merlin had made himself scarce after forcing Arthur out of his rooms. If Arthur caught a glance of him anywhere, Merlin would flash him a radiant—but very obviously forced—smile to keep up appearances. They had not spoken, but as the days passed, Arthur found he would much rather have settled things before their visit to the Druid camp, which he only remembered after his newly instated manservant, Claudin, reminded him the day before.

In the morning of that day, Arthur was awakened when the curtains were pushed to the side, letting the sunlight in and hitting his face directly. He groaned, rolling over and shoving his face into the pillows, and was greeted with the delightful sound of Merlin's laugh, followed by a  _"Rise and shine, Arthur!"_ And Arthur was thrown back to a time before everything had become so complicated. Merlin was in his room, waking him like he had when he was a servant.

"Your breakfast will grow cold..." Merlin said, softly, from across the room. When Arthur opened his eyes, he saw Merlin sitting at the table in wine colored robes, a plate of his own across from Arthur's usual place. That was when it truly hit him—this wasn't the old times. Merlin was king, and they hadn't been speaking for  _days._ What had made him suddenly change his mind? After his dismissal, Arthur hadn't expected Merlin to speak on the subject again, but now that he was here, Arthur wanted to take the chance and ask.

Within the past week he'd fallen into an uneasy indifference, and after his many nights of tossing and turning with the image of Merlin beneath him as Arthur strangled him, he wasn't exactly looking for a way to get out of his situation anymore.

The image was still seared in his mind. He could still see Merlin's resigned face, accepting what Arthur had been about to do to him. Fingers tracing his cheek, a soft smile of acquiescence, and tears staining pale pink skin as his breaths became few and far between. Each sensation had left a mark which brought Arthur back from his fit of rage, eventually causing him to let go of Merlin and draw back into himself. The horror of what he'd done came upon him and he broke down, unable to stop himself from remembering all the times Merlin had been there for him.

As he rose from his bed and sat at the table across from Merlin, he noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes, and the red puffiness that surrounded them as well. There was no doubt he hadn't gotten any sleep the previous night. Arthur wanted to question it, to ask what had happened and why Merlin looked like he hadn't slept at all, but he found he couldn't bring himself to speak. It felt like there was something lodged in his throat, preventing him from asking for fear of the answer.

A chill ran down Arthur's spine at the thought that he could be having similar nightmares to Arthur's own. It made him shiver as he reached for his utensils and began to eat. The silence was drawn out and awkward. In the midst of it, Arthur wanted to convince himself of some sort of feeling toward Merlin, and hate felt like more reliable stance than the confusion underlying it; there was no way he could hate him, though, not after all that had happened in the past week. Merlin looked up at him, but Arthur avoided his gaze, focusing on his food in front of him.

"We ought to leave as soon as you're ready. I'll prepare the horses and send some servants in to help you dress." Merlin said. Arthur glanced up for a second to meet his eyes and nodded. "If we make good time, we should reach the Druid camp by about midday." Merlin stood, taking both of their plates and rising from his seat, prepared to leave the room.

"Wait—," Arthur called, and Merlin met his eyes. "Merlin, why did you do it? Why did you name me crown prince?" Arthur watched, his heart thumping in his chest, yearning for an answer, and received nothing. Merlin blinked at him, not bothering to respond before he turned and left the room before Claudin came in to help Arthur dress. Arthur sighed.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Merlin's tense shoulders dropped.


	4. chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! here we are again, I hope you love it!

They rode through the tranquil forests silently, with Merlin leading the way. It was a world away from their old travels, filled with Merlin's never-ending prattle and Arthur's constant toss of endearing insults. Neither of them knew what to say to one another, now that so much had changed between them. Arthur was confused over his inability to hate Merlin, even after all the torment brought upon him. At this point, he had begun to believe what Merlin had told him about his father, and now that he thought about it, was it really so hard to accept? His father had always refused to speak about Arthur's mother—to the same extent he refused to speak on the issue of magic.

Arthur sighed, slouching in his saddle. He didn't know what to believe; it was all so much to take in. If only he had someone to guide him, but his father was gone and the only other person who he could turn to was Merlin, who he still didn't completely trust. Maybe if all of what Merlin said proved to be true, somehow, a new sort of trust could bloom between them. However, trust was not forgiveness for the acts already committed; he didn't know if he would  _ever_  be able to forgive Merlin for the death of his father. Even if he had been horrible, he was Arthur's father, and the only one he'd had.

"I hope you're not too tired," Merlin piped up, leaning over to reach for a sword at his side. "We have company." He threw the sword by the handle in Arthur's direction, who caught it with a firm grasp. The weight of it was familiar in his hand, and it was the first true feeling of comfort he experienced since his Merlin had taken the throne.

Bandits jumped out of the trees. Arthur sprang off of his horse and met one of the men trying to slash at him. He swung back, and his feet found their old rhythm as he reached and parried against his opponent. After he'd disarmed the man, Arthur pushed the tip of his sword through his stomach, watching as he dropped to the ground. For a split second, he wondered why it was so easy for him to kill this nameless man, and why it was so hard to kill Merlin, who had wronged him worse than the bandit.

When Arthur turned, the rest of the bandits—there were so many of them—were dead on the ground. Merlin stood in the middle, looking down on all the carnage he'd wrecked, his face void of any emotion.

Arthur was afraid. He almost had a mind to run, but then Merlin was looking at him with widened eyes and yelling his name. Before Arthur could turn around, Merlin lifted a hand and flung the body of a bandit into the trunk of a tree like a rag doll, a sickly crunch bestowing the hit and the following fall to the ground. If Arthur had been afraid of what Merlin had been capable of before, the pure lack of thought that went into killing a man so brutally frightened him even more. But then, he realized that the bandit had been moving to kill him, and would have had Merlin not intervened. Merlin had saved his life,  _again_.

This time, however, he was not hiding under a false identity. There could be no hidden motive, since there was really no reason for Merlin to be keeping him alive. Working under Arthur for the many years he had allowed him to know all of Camelot's secrets because he had been the prince's most trusted servant. Arthur truly had no idea why he was still alive and not being tortured, unless Merlin really did care for him still—if he ever had in the first place. It would certainly explain why he'd been named crown prince, and maybe he could let his guard down, finally.

However, Arthur had no further proof on the matter and he wouldn't make himself vulnerable to being hurt again. His walls would stay up until he found reason to break them down.

"Are you alright, Arthur?" Merlin asked. He still stood a distance away, but he conveyed concern in his eyes, an emotion Arthur never thought he would see from Merlin ever again.

"I'm fine." Arthur said, sighing. "Thank you." Merlin lips upturned.

"Good. We can walk the rest of the way, it's not too far. I sent the horses ahead already with magic; they'll reach there first." Arthur nodded, catching up to Merlin as they made their way out of the clearing and deeper into the woods.

The sun was high, beaming down on them in the almost cloudless sky. Its warmth on their skin protected them from the gentle winds that blew around them. As they stepped through the grass, it sank into the slightly damp dirt, leaving shallow footprints in their wake. Birds flew through trees, chirping as they nestled into nests as well as when they left them. The branches up above them swayed meekly, brushing each other and creating an underlying feeling of the leaves dancing together, happy in their places amongst one another.

Merlin breathed in the scent of the earth and couldn't help but smile. This was where magic was born, in nature, and it was exactly where he felt like he belonged. He didn't have to hide himself here, not where he was welcomed with open arms to lie in the soft grass, splayed out in the sun, and do as he pleased. The forests would never anger at him, for they knew he was but one with them and that there would never be another like him.

Arthur was silent beside him as they walked; Merlin took the chance to turn and look him over. He wasn't injured from the fight as he walked on with his usual princely confidence, taking in the beautiful scenery around him as they continued through it. It wasn't unusual that Merlin's eyes were drawn to Arthur's face, with his enticing blue eyes, straight nose, and luscious pink lips. However, when Arthur turned to him, Merlin looked away immediately, facing down to the ground and unable to prevent a slight blush alighting his cheeks.

"How much farther?" Arthur asked.

"Not much, it's just through here." Merlin replied, pointing to a path that led straight into foliage that covered up their destination. He went first, pushing through the bushes and moving branches aside as Arthur followed behind him. They stepped through a curtain of vines, and on the other side was a clearing that felt magical in its own right. Even Arthur could feel it, seeping from every edge of the forest surrounding him. The camp was big, with people milling about doing some sort of work or another; the beautiful day only seemed to support the cheerful mood that the people looked to be experiencing. Tents were scattered throughout, and the clearing was so large Arthur could barely see the end of it on the other side.

Merlin felt comforted, finally at the camp with people he loved and missed. He'd done this for them, so they could roam free without fear of what could happen if they were found. Even if he regretted some of his actions, watching the Druids go about their daily lives without an underlying hint of fear made it all worth it.

"Emrys!" Aglain exclaimed, coming toward Merlin with a smile on his face. Merlin smiled back brightly, delighted to see his efforts had paid off. When Aglain came toward him, he reached out to put his hand on Merlin's shoulder. Merlin smiled at the comforting gesture, but then frowned, suddenly remembering  _calloused hands_ latched around his neck. A chill ran down his spine and he shivered for a second. He hoped it had gone unnoticed, but Aglain gave him a concerned glance. "We have made preparations to welcome our new king tonight, a feast, and we would be grateful if you would attend."

 _Later._ Merlin thought, and Aglain nodded.

 _Of course, my lord,_ he responded.

"Of course, Aglain. Have you seen Morgana?" Merlin asked, but before Aglain could answer, Morgana walked up to them. She wore the same robes as everyone else, looking like she belonged there. Arthur was taken aback—she looked happier than he'd ever seen her before. It was like Camelot had caged her, but now that she was free she was beaming in every way.

"Merlin, Arthur! I'm so glad you could come!" She exclaimed, with a blinding smile on her face. "You are staying for the feast tonight, aren't you? You simply must!" Arthur looked at Merlin, who glanced at back at him for a split second.

"Yes, we are. We'll spend the night as well." Merlin said, and Morgana positively glowed. Arthur watched as Morgana seemed to look at Merlin with a sort of fondness, the type that could only come from a deep-seated adoration. Arthur didn't know how to feel about it, he didn't even know what was happening in front of him. Were the two of them... romantically involved? It wouldn't surprise him, and it would explain why Merlin had kept Morgana safe aside from the fact that she had magic.

For some reason, Arthur didn't like the thought of it. He couldn't understand why, either.  _This isn't the same Merlin I've spent years with,_ Arthur reminded himself,  _he's not my Merlin._ He couldn't spend much more time thinking on the topic, however, as Merlin and Aglain walked away, speaking on matters that Arthur figured must have had to do with preparations. Morgana still stood in front of him, but the happiness from her face had disappeared, leaving a look of concern behind.

"Come on, Arthur." She said, motioning for him to follow her. "I think we have much to discuss." Arthur nodded, contented to follow her mindlessly as they walked through the camp. They passed by many people, all of which who looked at him with interest; he knew they wondered why the son of the ex-king  of Camelot had arrived with the new king. There wasn't anything he could do, but take their stares with dignity—he was not a prisoner and he would not cower.

Soon, the two of them arrived at one of the tents, and Morgana stepped inside first before Arthur followed. The area was small, but comfortable enough for one person to live in. There was a cot, and and table with two chairs. Other than that, the tent was empty, and Arthur didn't know how someone could live with so little. Morgana sat down at the table and Arthur did as well, but he didn't know what to say.

"How are you, Arthur?" Morgana asked, and Arthur sighed.

"As well as I can be, after my servant has had my father killed and taken over my kingdom." Morgana frowned.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, but I'm sure Merlin has told you he didn't kill Uther. I don't know all the details but I'm sure you would prefer them from Merlin himself. Has he told you why his actions were necessary?"

"Yes, he has, but Morgana... I don't understand. Why did he do this? I don't- I don't even know if I can trust him anymore, he's done this but he's still acting as himself, and the magic– did it corrupt him? Has it corrupted you?"

"Arthur, you have to get Uther's old thoughts out of your head. Magic does not corrupt, and Merlin was born with magic. He only wants the best for all of us. The Druid people are peaceful and have always used magic; they've helped me so much since I've come here, Arthur. I've learned so much."

"...Are you truly happy here, Morgana? More than you were in Camelot?"

"Yes, very much so. I don't have to hide who I am, here. After I found out, I was so afraid Uther would have me killed and I had no idea what to do. I confided in Merlin and he helped me, brought me here and the Druids taught me that magic isn't something to fear. It's beautiful, and it can do so much  _good._ If only you could see."

Arthur didn't know what to say. He never wanted to disrespect his father's legacy, but it seemed everything that happened kept leading him astray. Morgana seemed so  _sure_  that Merlin had done this not for his own benefit, but for the benefit of his  _people._ Arthur could understand that, for he would have sacrificed his own life or even much more for the sake of his people. The sting of betrayal lessened in his chest.

"And Arthur, Merlin isn't just an ordinary sorcerer, you know that, right?" Arthur gave her a confused look, and she murmured something as if irritated before continuing, "His name is  _Emrys_ in the prophecies foretold at the beginning of time, and it is said that he will bring magic back into the whole of Albion. He's already begun, and it will spread to the rest of the kingdoms. Magic won't be something to fear anymore, but something to  _celebrate_. I know you must still be mourning Uther, and I understand that, he was your father, but a new time of peace is arising, surely you must see that?" Morgana looked at him with hopefulness in her eyes, wishing he would understand.

"But he was your father too, wasn't he?"

"Did you completely disregard everything else I said?" She glared at him, and it felt like they were teenagers again, arguing over some topic of state that Uther had proposed to them to ready Arthur for his role as prince.

"Morgana–,"

"Yes. By  _blood_  he was my father, but I've never thought of him in such a way. I could never consider myself the daughter of someone so filled with disdain for magic because of hypocritical actions that led to his own demise." She scoffed, and Arthur almost had the mind to be insulted because it was  _his_  father, but it was surprisingly easy for him to let it go.

"So, it's true, then... My father used magic to help my mother conceive me. And my mother died for it." Morgana gave him a concerned look, reaching out and placing her hand atop his on the table.

"It is true. But don't let  _his_  mistakes lead  _your_  life, forget everything he's told you and look around; do you really believe magic is inherently evil?" Arthur thought about all that magic had done to him in his life. He saw countless numbers of dark sorcerers trying to kill him or his father in his head, taken his parents away from him, and allowed Merlin to steal the throne. However, the one thing that seemed to transcend all the other examples was Merlin saving his life in the woods, without a second thought. He hadn't seen enough of what magic could do besides kill or maim, and he couldn't come to a decision on how he felt about it.

"I... I don't know. Genuinely, I don't."

"It's alright, that's a start. There's going to be a performance at the feast tonight, but before that I think you should go around the camp and see how people use magic in their everyday lives." Morgana said, rising out of her chair. "Now, I have to help with the preparations for the feast, but you're welcome to stay here for now if you would like. Though, I'm sure you and Merlin will be placed in one of the guest tents tonight."

"Oh... what should I do until then?"

"I don't know, Arthur, I'm sure you'll think of some way to pass the time." She smiled, before leaving him in the tent without knowing what he was to do.

~•~

Merlin and Aglain arrived in the tent reserved for meetings, where no one would disturb them. Magic was used to block all sounds coming in and out of it, and there was a spell used to prevent anyone from being able to enter it. There was a long table that stretched down the length of the entire tent. Beneath their feet was an elevated wooden platform that wasn't used in the others tents, rather than grass. After they sat down, Merlin sighed. Aglain raised an eyebrow.

"Ruling isn't as easy as you thought it would be, is it?"

"Of course it isn't. And it doesn't help that I'm ridden with guilt every time I even glance at Arthur."

"You chose this, Merlin. You must live with its consequences."

"I know! It's just..." Merlin groaned, putting his head in his hands. "I don't know how to end his hatred for magic, when everything I do only seems to make him hate it and  _me_ more."

"Take a deep breath, Merlin, you've done more for us than anyone ever has before. Arthur will come to see that; the prophecy has been written since the beginning of time. It will prove true, as all the others before it have."

"I hope you're right, Aglain." Merlin sighed, "Earlier..." he began, but didn't know how to continue. Aglain looked at him with kindness in his eyes, patiently waiting. "Last week. Arthur was in my chambers... he... he tried to kill me by strangling. It was  _horrible._  And then, he broke down in front of me in apology and I thought something might have changed, but he still hates me and magic and I- I don't know what to do!" Merlin stifled a sob with a hand to his mouth, but was unable to stop the tears falling down his cheeks. "That night, I dreamt it happened again, but it was  _worse_ , and I'm afraid it's going to recur, and there's nothing I can do to stop it." Aglain reached out and slowly placed a comforting hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"The only way to fix your mental anguish would be to mend your relationship with Arthur, and he must come to terms with your magic. Your mind fears the guilt you bear for the death of Arthur's father, and has drawn up such images in response due to Arthur's attempt on your life. Merlin, you must understand that you've saved many lives that would have been killed under Uther's reign. The burden you bear for his death is respectable, for all life is sacred, but it should not consume you."

"I know, but I can't help it when Arthur looks at me as if I've taken his entire life away from him. How am I supposed to convince him magic isn't evil when I've condoned such things in order to obtain the crown?" Merlin sniffled.

"You have to gain his trust again, though it will be difficult. He apologized after the strangulation attempt, so he does not wish to see you dead, but he needs to see what his father has hidden from him, even though it will take much more to completely change his views."

"I don't know if anything I do is going to work—Arthur's always been so stubborn, and he's resistant to change."

"You have to try, Merlin, or nothing  _will_  ever change." Merlin nodded, rubbing his eyes and swiping away dried tear tracks left on his cheeks. Afterward, he smiled at Aglain, grateful he had such a wise friend whose counsel he could always seek out when needed.

"Thank you, Aglain. For your help and your support."

"It is nothing, my lord." Aglain said, with a smile as he stood up. "Now, we must prepare for the feast! We were wondering if you would help us prepare for the performance tonight..."

~•~

The sun was beginning to set, but hadn't fully yet, letting filtered light through the trees in the glade. There was a small stream flowing down the mountainside, and the trickling water invited a relaxing feeling through Arthur's body. After spending most of the day traversing through the Druid camp, he had longed for somewhere peaceful and quiet to sit before the feast began. He knew it was sure to be loud and boisterous, as earlier he'd discovered how the Druids' feasts were few and far between, usually only meant for holidays and festivals. One of the men Arthur had met had told him that tonight's would be very great because they had the king, Emrys, blessing their futures with his presence.

Now that he was away from the camp, Arthur had the chance to deliberate upon the statement. Merlin was the king,  _Merlin_  was a powerful sorcerer who had had his name and destiny written at the beginning of time. It was all very hard to believe, but Morgana wouldn't lie to him. They'd been through far too much together for the trust they'd built over the many years growing up together to fall.

He'd gone through the camp as she'd asked, had witnessed the people using magic in every sort of way. From having the washing done to carrying heavy loads to starting fires, Arthur had seen it all. There was no violence, everyone only went about their lives—though he found there were many people running around the camp in preparation for the feast. Even Morgana had been slightly frantic, trying to make sure everything was perfect. Arthur had been there when they'd begun to magically hang the decorations, garlands of flowers on the evergreen trees that surrounded the camp center. That was all he'd seen before Morgana had shooed him away, wanting for it to be a surprise.

There was a rustling behind him, and as Arthur turned, ready to jump to his feet if necessary, Merlin popped out, and when he saw Arthur he smiled brightly. Arthur's tense shoulders dropped, and unknowingly, the corners of his mouth lifted as Merlin brushed the leaves out of his hair. It left him looking ruffled and innocent, much like he always used to look whenever Arthur had allowed himself a longer glance. When Merlin had finally gotten all of the leaves out, he walked over to Arthur and sat down beside him, leaving a generous amount of distance.

"Did they kick you out as well?" Merlin asked, and Arthur huffed with a nod. Merlin chuckled. "Seems as if they're trying to get rid of us altogether..." He lied back in the grass, his hands behind his head as he looked up at the darkening sky. An array of colors surrounded the setting sun, oranges and pinks and purples, adding to the already beautiful atmosphere they were situated in.

Arthur couldn't help turning his head to look down at Merlin beside him. If he didn't think too hard, he could imagine nothing had changed, that he and Merlin were just off on a hunting trip, resting for the evening before they would set up camp for the night. The scenario gave him an excuse to look at Merlin the way he wanted to—to drag his eyes along pretty eyes and sharp cheekbones, pouty pink lips and pale skin, down a hard chest until strong abdominals, and the lean limbs that followed. Arthur felt something twist in the depths of his chest.

Then, when he did think too hard, it was inevitable he would feel the guilt. He was staring down with desire at the culprit who had taken his father's crown and killed him in the process. There was nothing he could do, though, when Merlin looked like  _that_. He'd closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of the sun for a few seconds before opening them, and Arthur saw gold swirling in the depths of them as they returned to their usual blue. Merlin turned his head to meet Arthur's eyes.

"Something wrong?" He asked, kindly, because he was  _Merlin_ and had only ever cared for Arthur's wellbeing.

"Oh, er- no, nothing." Arthur said, turning his head away as a blush arose on his neck. Merlin hummed, seeming pleased with the answer before the two of them returned to their initial comfortable silence. Even though he wasn't looking at Merlin anymore, Arthur found his thoughts strayed to him very quickly. He wanted to  _touch_ that pale skin, run his hands down the hard lines of that chest, feel Merlin moaning  _his name_  beneath him, yearning for more. It was something he'd wanted for so long, but it was also something he'd always been ashamed of; Merlin was his servant, and it wouldn't be proper for them to engage in such acts. Arthur hadn't even had an idea if Merlin felt the same way. He probably never had.

Arthur found himself growing hard in his breeches. He brought his thoughts back to his father, to the Druids, to anything that could possibly make his evident physical desire for Merlin disappear. None of it worked, but he was glad to be facing away from Merlin at that moment. As he frantically tried to think a way to will his erection away, Merlin decided it would be a good time for him to speak, and Arthur cursed him for it.

"Morgana told me that you were looking around camp, earlier. What do you think of it?" He asked, still lying back. Arthur tried not to picture his lips shaping each word that came from his mouth. It didn't work.

"I think... it's nice." Arthur got out, unable to vividly voice his opinions on how he thought the Druid camp was cooperative and efficient, and how happy everyone seemed. The children helped with physical work, but still had time to run around and play, while the adults all aided one another when they were needed. Each person seemed to have something that they were the master of in order to contribute to the whole. No one was left alone, and no one was without use. However, he was still trying to force his erection to disappear, and he couldn't express what he wanted because of it. Focusing on other things had helped, though, and it had diminished slightly.

" _Nice?_ " Merlin humphed, "that's all?"

"Well, it was eye-opening, to say the least." Arthur began, after finally containing his desire, "Everyone has a purpose to contribute to the whole, and it works better than one would think."

"...All right." Merlin said, as if he was thinking over Arthur's statement, but didn't comment afterward. The lull after the short conversation felt awkward because neither of them knew what to say. Those days where either of them could easily speak their mind around the other had gone, leaving behind stilted interactions where there once was contentment.

They stayed in their newly renewed silence until someone called them for the feast, exchanging emotionless glances toward one another that hid the longing underneath.


	5. chapter five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! just a little FYI, updates from here on out may not be so regular, because I have chapter six finished but not seven, and while I am trying my hardest to finish this fic, I am human and therefore I am lazy there's just no getting around it, and i'm SORRY 
> 
> pls enjoy this anyway!! :)

The camp center was decorated for the night. Floating balls of shining light, almost like miniature suns, flew around slowly. The trees had been decorated similarly, with flowers and colorful rows of lights that radiated down on the elaborate table that sat in the middle of the camp. It was round, with intricate engravings and designs littered all over it; it stretched out far enough that it would seat every single person, with no one left unattended. Looking at it, Arthur thought it seemed that there wasn't even the slightest bit of space, with foods of every kind spread out over it. Freshly grown fruits and vegetables that looked ripe for the taking, cooked meats that used every part of the animal, and delicacies that Arthur wouldn't even have been able to name but  _looked_  mouthwatering and rare.

Merlin had been standing beside him when they'd entered, and everyone had clapped for the two of them as they walked in together. Arthur stood up straight and flashed a few smiles, years of similar reactions having trained him for them. When he looked at Merlin, he found him with a small, graceful smile on his face as he stood regally and looked upon his subjects. It was the second time Arthur had seen him in the true role of his position—there was no doubt he was majestic and dignified, the unerring image of a ruler. Somehow, it only magnified his beauty.

When the clapping died down, two young girls led he and Merlin to their seats—next to each other, of course. As soon as they did, music sprung up from somewhere behind them, and the sounds of the violin ringing merrily only brightened Arthur's mood. Morgana sat down beside him as everyone began to follow as well, shooting him a bright smile that permeated such a brilliant happiness that Arthur couldn't believe he'd ever doubted her. After everyone was seated, Aglain stood from his seat beside Merlin. The music drew quieter.

"We hold this feast to welcome our king, the king of Camelot, Emrys! As well as his companion and Crown Prince, Arthur Pendragon!" Aglain spoke, and the acknowledgement threw Arthur off for a moment. He hadn't been expecting any sort of recognition, being who he was amidst people who were against everything his father had fought against. But then, the Druids were clapping and hooting, looking at him with their lips stretched into glorious smiles; it couldn't be anything but a glowing acceptance. When he turned his head to look at Merlin, he found him staring straight back at Arthur as they both received the praise with grace.

"Let the feast commence with a performance from a few of our own!" Aglain said, after the applause had died down. He took a seat, and Arthur watched as four fairly young Druids stood from their positions and walked around the table into the clearing in front of it. They stood in a line, and the lighting diminished until it was completely dark. For a moment, there was nothing.

And then there were flames, sparkling like jewels in a circle above their heads. Arthur applauded along with everyone else before the circle uncurled itself and one end of the newly formed line flew out and up, gradually changing into the form of a dragon. It glided through the air elegantly, stopping above their heads to let out a roar and breathe fire up toward the starry night sky. Those flames rose high into the sky before bursting several times into every color imaginable. They created many different shapes, flowers and animals and even Merlin's face. When it happened, Merlin had become bashful, blushing and hiding his face in his hands as everyone cheered and clapped.

Afterward, the fire dragon flew through the air again, swirling through the air before stopping above the table and fading into sparkles and drizzled over them, leading into a final round of applause as the lights were heightened again. The four young Druids bowed, returning to their seats; the music began again and everyone chatted beneath the sound of it, beginning to dig into their food. Arthur could only watch, still mesmerized by the performance and how it was possible. It was beautiful in its own way, not like anything Arthur had ever seen before. He was staring at the food in front of him, still lost in his inability to believe the beauty of the lives the Druids led, when Merlin put a hand on his shoulder. The touch, the first since that night in Merlin's chambers, shook him out of his reverie.

"Arthur, are you alright?" Merlin asked, concerned that the wild displays of magic had affected Arthur. But then, Arthur turned his head toward Merlin with a golden smile, laughing with glee.

"I'm absolutely fine! Great, actually." And Merlin laughed along with him, unable to think over the fact that it was the first time Arthur had smiled at him since his father's death.

Maybe there was hope for them, yet.

~•~

Later, after drinking cup after cup of mulled wine, the two of them had descended into a satisfied sense of ease. The music still played, a jolly tune to energize the crowd, but neither of them had risen to dance, focused rather on speaking with everyone that approached them. Now that there was no one left to talk to, Merlin wanted to get up and join them, but he faced the problem of leaving Arthur alone at the mostly empty table. He forced himself not to think too hard about what he was doing, standing and turning toward Arthur to offer up his hand.

Arthur cocked his head in confusion.

"Care to dance?" Merlin asked, his voice shaky and nervous, wondering if Arthur would say no, if he would insult Merlin and tell him off, if he would push him away, if he would say  _yes—._

"Do you even know  _how_  to dance, Merlin?" Arthur scoffed, putting his hand in Merlin's and pulling himself out of his seat. Merlin had no words, too far consumed in the feeling of Arthur's hand in his own as he was pulled over to the clearing where everyone cheered for the two of them. Morgana caught his eye and gave him a smirk, to which he lowered his head as a blush arose on his neck. When they reached the center, there was space for the two of them, and Arthur let go of his hand in favor of a young Druid woman to his left. Merlin found a young woman on his right, whom he took the hands of as the music began to loop again.

They spun their partners and took their hands, following the correct steps to the music, smiling and laughing along before spinning away and finding themselves in the arms of another, right before the music looped again. Then, they repeated the same steps, getting to know their new partner before it happened again.

Merlin enjoyed it thoroughly, meeting everyone and having a few words with whoever he danced with. He was familiar with everyone, having visited many times in the past that he was well-known for more than just his given name. Though few of them knew him as Merlin,  _Emrys_ was a kind, lovable king who strove for his people's happiness over his own, and was always willing to help, no matter the cost. They adored him, showered him in compliments and thanked him for attending the feast, and all Merlin could do was look at them and blush shyly, letting out a  _"thank you"_ when he could.

And then, he spun away from his then-partner—a young druid man who had been apart of the earlier performance—and landed in the arms of another. When he looked, he saw Arthur holding him by the waist, looking into his eyes as he pulled his hands away and fumbled to reach for Merlin's. He intertwined their fingers, and moved as soon as the music looped again. Merlin couldn't keep his eyes off Arthur's face, looking straight back at him, and yet they found their feet moving accurately of their own accord. Arthur lifted Merlin's arm and twirled him around, igniting a giggle from Merlin which halted their stare-down. Arthur let out a small laugh as well, and the tension in both of them loosened and they were dancing together freely, comfortably.

Their eyes stayed locked on one another, but now bright smiles matched with laughs at how ridiculous they must have looked, the two of them. Arthur had completely foregone the correct steps, and instead he took Merlin's hands in his and tugged him closer before dramatically pushing him away, and spinning himself around while still clasping their hands together. They continued on like that, making their own choreography, not bothering to leave each other's arms when the music looped over again.

Arthur attributed his light feelings to the wine, which had simmered under his skin and ran a warm, fuzzy feeling throughout his entire body. It erased his inhibitions, and suddenly there was no reason he  _couldn't_ dance and laugh with Merlin as if they were the only two there. There was nothing holding him back, and he wondered, in his slight wine-induced haze, why he couldn't pull Merlin away from it all, run away where there was no crown and neither of them had never done anything to hurt the other. It was a unrealistic dream, an ideal that was as unlikely as they came.

The music stopped after the last loop, and everyone cheered as the feast was called to an end. Merlin and Arthur detached themselves from one another, with tired, satisfied smiles on their faces as they applauded with everyone else.

Afterward, one of the Druids—a young man named Mordred, who looked at Merlin as if he were a God upon the Earth—led the two of them to their tent, which sat at the opposite side of the camp from its entrance. He bid then a good night, and that if they needed anything he was close by, and left the two of them alone.

The tent was sparsely furnished—not that Arthur had expected anything more—but it held more than Morgana's tent had. The lighting came from the ball of light that hung at the top of the tent. There were two single beds, an armoire, a desk, and a table with a platter of fruits and cheeses as well as a pitcher of water, another of wine, and two chalices. Arthur, who had started to develop a slight ache in the back of his head from the sudden absence of loud music and the adrenaline pumping through his veins, made his way over and downed a cup of water. Merlin simply fell upon one of the beds, face down, and let out a sigh of exhaustion.

"We have to leave early tomorrow," Merlin grumbled, "at first light."

"All right." Arthur murmured, peeling his sweaty tunic off before climbing into his bed and pulling up the covers. He shut his eyes, hearing Merlin rise from his spot and shuffle around, whispering a few words to make the light shut off and removing his clothes before sliding into his own bed.

"Goodnight, Arthur." He said, a soft mumble, reminiscent of nights spent in forests during long journeys or campaigns. It awoke something in Arthur's heart: the strong desire that had been weakly lingering around in his head all day. It reminded him of how, on those taxing nights so long ago, he'd wanted to pull Merlin close and have him rest his head on Arthur's chest, arms wrapped around them as they lied next to the warmth of the fire.

The renewed wanting made Arthur's heart ache, while he simultaneously reminded himself that it was not possible. If he and Merlin had still been in the same position as when Arthur's father had been king, maybe he could've put his feelings out into the open. But not now, when Merlin was king and Arthur had been named crown prince and there was far too much distance between them. Still, he thought, there was nothing stopping him from dreaming, as he drifted off to sleep.

~•~

In the middle of the night, Arthur awoke, panting as the visions of his dreams flashed before his eyes. The sight of Merlin beneath him had greeted him once again, Arthur's hands clamped tightly around his throat with no way to remove them. He was forced to watch as he killed Merlin with his own two hands, forced to watch the life slip away from those so-blue eyes Arthur had always adored. It was terrifying.

He sat up in bed, to find the lighting in the tent low, and Merlin sitting at the table, filling himself a chalice of wine as he raked a hand through his hair. Arthur caught his eye and Merlin lifted one side of his mouth in acknowledgement, taking a sip from his chalice.

"Can't sleep?" Merlin asked. Arthur shook his head with a sigh. "Me neither. Join me?"

 _Why not?_ Arthur thought, sliding out of bed and walking over to sit beside Merlin at the table. He filled his own chalice and leaned back against his chair, trying to clear his mind of the remnants of his nightmare. As he looked toward Merlin, he noticed his red-rimmed eyes, and the red veins on the whites of his eyes that were thick with exhaustion. It seemed they were both suffering, then, in their own ways. Unsurprisingly, Arthur found he wanted to know what had caused Merlin to lose so much sleep over the past week, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Did you... have a nightmare?" Merlin asked, hesitantly, swirling his wine around in its cup. Arthur sighed.

"I did." He didn't elaborate upon it; he didn't want to.

"Oh. Well, we're the same, then." And then they were silent for a few minutes, hazy from only just waking and the little wine they'd drank. Merlin took the opportunity to glance over Arthur's figure, taking in the hard set of his shoulders, even while they drooped in fatigue. His eyes fell to the strong chest, with a masculine amount of hair which wouldn't make anyone doubt Arthur's strong presence as a man of power. Then, a toned stomach followed by muscular thighs and sinewy calves.

Arthur could've been compared to the old Greek sculptures of gods.

It wasn't right for him to look as if he was Atlas, with the weight of the world on his shoulders as he did right then. He had laid his head down on his forearms, turned toward Merlin, and released a sigh. Merlin's heart churned at the sight, not wanting Arthur to be exhausted in the morning when they prepared to leave. He stood up, and took a step closer to him.

"Arthur, you should get to bed." Merlin held his hand out, and Arthur slipped his own into it, allowing Merlin to pull him up and lead him over to his bed. He lied down, and Merlin pulled the covers over him before sitting on the edge of his bed.

"I'm not going to fall asleep so easily, you know." Arthur said, not completely wide awake, but aware enough that it would take some time to break down the effects of his nightmare and waking in the middle of the night. Merlin gave him a smirk.

"Oh, I know. Many years of you waking in the middle of the night during campaigns have taught me that." Then, Merlin snapped his fingers, and the violin from earlier appeared in their tent, its shadow cast onto the walls by the low lamp light. Softly, it started playing the melody of a lullaby, one that Arthur had heard many times when he was a child. It was nostalgic, and made him sigh in a peaceful sense of content, closing his eyes. "Sleep, Arthur." Merlin said, tenderly.

" 'm not a baby, Merlin." Arthur mumbled, and Merlin let out a quiet giggle. It made the edges of Arthur's lips turn up in a smile.

"Oh, I  _know_ , Arthur." Merlin smiled, and Arthur could hear it in his voice.

Merlin let himself give in to his desires, placing a hand in Arthur's hair and stroking through it. The only reason he allowed himself to do it was because Arthur was too groggy now to remember anything by the next day. Even then, Merlin loved it when Arthur unconsciously leaned into him, giving another contented sigh before it seemed that he fell fully to sleep. The hand in his hair dropped down to his cheek, as Merlin rubbed his thumb over Arthur's cheekbone, knowing he would never be allowed to do it if he was awake.

When he finally drew away—taking one last look at Arthur's peaceful face and sending the violin away—he began to stand up. He didn't expect Arthur's hand to reach out and clasp to his wrist. Merlin turned, sitting back down on the bed as Arthur held his hand within his own.  Arthur's eyes were open, though drooping after having been so close to falling asleep.

"Merlin—I just, I want to apologize. For that night. I am," He yawned, "sincerely sorry. You were only telling me the truth and I- I didn't know how to react. This must not make it better, but I hope you know you have my sincerest apologies. Truly." Arthur yawned again, his eyes falling though he still tried to keep them open.

"You're forgiven, Arthur. You were  _always_  forgiven." Merlin croaked, his throat tight as fat tears suddenly rolled down his cheeks. Arthur's eyes opened again, with strenuous effort, and he reached out and thumbed the tears off Merlin's cheeks.

"Don't cry, Merlin. It's not becoming of a king." Arthur said, voice ridden with sleep, before taking his hand away. When Merlin looked down at him again, he had no doubts Arthur had finally fallen into a deep sleep. He stood up and wiped at his own eyes, bringing the room to darkness with his magic before climbing into his own bed. His thoughts lingered only on Arthur, sniffling while he continuously replayed the short course of events that had only just taken place.

Merlin fell into a dreamless sleep with a new sense of hope in his heart.

~•~

In the morning, they left with baskets full of offerings, like fresh fruits and materials, for them to return to Camelot with. They hadn't had much time to speak in the morning, too busy preparing themselves for their royal departure. Morgana had wished them both well personally, hugging each of them, and knowing that she was safe and happy made Arthur feel satisfied. As they rode out of the camp, they found themselves alone with each other for the first time since the night before.

Merlin didn't know if Arthur remembered what had happened, but the silence between them didn't feel nearly as tense as it had when they'd first arrived to the camp. It had to be a good sign, then, that things were changing. He didn't know how long he could bear seeing Arthur hate him, and now that they had broken through the initial dam, Merlin hoped it would all be easier from now on. There was nothing left hidden between them, and all that meant was that there would be space to put new feelings and emotions now.

About halfway back to Camelot, Arthur spoke up.

"What are you going to do? When we return?" He asked, curiously. There was no malice hidden beneath his words; Merlin was grateful.

"Well... I will return to my station, hold meetings, fill out paperwork, the usual. There may be some sort of feast soon to welcome a new alliance with Nemeth, I think, but there doesn't seem to be anything else. Oh, um... Arthur?" Merlin has been wanting to tell Arthur this since he'd gone back to training with the knights, but there hadn't been enough time...

"Yes?"

"Would you be opposed to leading the knights, again? You still are the best skilled in Camelot, and they could use someone like you. Only if you want to, of course. I would understand if you didn't want to, now that you've been free of any real duties and most likely don't want any source of stress again, but it would be very helpful if you–,"

"Merlin." Arthur interrupted, chuckling, and Merlin shut his mouth, finally realizing he'd begun to ramble. It was the first time he'd heard Arthur laugh since he ascended the throne. "I would be perfectly glad to have my old position back. Thank you."

"No, Arthur, thank  _you_." And beneath his words, he projected his gratitude for the new acceptance Arthur had given him. It was a small step, of course, but there was time in the future for change and growth. He could expose Arthur to magic in pieces, with spells like lighting a fire, before moving on to bigger, grander things, like war magic. All he needed was time.

~•~

Upon their return to Camelot, Arthur and Merlin were immediately separated, called on to their various duties that couldn't be avoided. Arthur, with his new and improved status, was pulled toward to where the knights were training, as it was still early afternoon and there were many drills yet to be done.

Merlin was tugged in the opposite direction, toward the council chambers as his advisors sat at the long table waiting for him. Sigan, who had been seated at the head, quickly moved as the king approached. He returned to his original seat at Merlin's right, where he truly belonged. At the sight of the movement, Merlin knew Sigan had taken charge during his absence, even when he had strictly stated that no one was to do as such. And now, he had the nerve to smile placatingly at Merlin as he was seated at the table.

"What is so important that it immediately needed to be discussed?" Merlin proposed. Immediately, Sigan sat up and began to speak.

"With all due respect, sire, we have reason to question your recent placement of the young Pendragon into the position of crown prince." He stood, walking around the table to the opposite end where he could be face to face with Merlin. As he walked over, Gaius held back a snort, and met eyes with Merlin before mouthing  _WE_  and shaking his head. Without anything more, Merlin knew Sigan was the only one who had called this to be discussed. "He has been brainwashed by his father, and yet hates magic and everything that comes with it. If, for some reason, you fall and he must claim the throne, the ban on magic will be reinstated and Camelot will be victim to the rule of a tyrant once again."

Merlin scoffed. The other council members held in a gasp, and Gaius smirked.

"While I appreciate your attempt to protect Camelot from the future ban of magic, the Prince has never strongly supported his father's views. There has always been doubt lingering in his mind. Since my coronation, I have had the ability to show him how magic can be used as a force for good, rather than evil, and he has responded perfectly. I have no reason to believe that soon he will be a supporter of magic, with time." Merlin declared, and Sigan looked down at the ground, feeling disgraced.

"But sire–," He tried, before Merlin spoke again.

"All in favor of keeping Arthur Pendragon instated as the Crown Prince?" Merlin and all of the men, except for Sigan, raised their hands. "I think that concludes this discussion, then." And he strode out of the room, planning to return to his chambers to complete some well-needed paperwork, and finally get some real rest after having been unable to sleep well at the Druid camp.


	6. chapter six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! thank you for sticking around!! once again chapter posts from here on are going to be a little longer of a wait, I haven’t exactly finished chapter seven yet but on the bright side I promise the chapter is going to be at least a little longer than usual!! thank you again! :)

Three months passed in the citadel. Arthur and Merlin spoke when they needed to, but otherwise kept their distance from one another. While Merlin yearned for a closer relationship, he knew it was impossible that Arthur felt the same. Since that night at the Druid camp, many of his nightmares of the strife between him and Arthur had ended. While the dream of Arthur choking him had never reappeared, it still lingered in his mind and impacted the dreams that he had had. Images of Arthur chasing him through the forest, or ripping the crown from his head and ordering him dead, or shoving him into the wall roughly and claiming his lips, met with an enthusiastic response—they showed Arthur in a light that didn't match who he really was.

 

Even if much progress had been made on Arthur's stance on magic, their relationship was still a bit rough around the edges. While their professional interactions were comfortably formal, any attempt from either side to reintroduce some sort of friendship was always met with awkwardness.

 

Eventually, both of them gave up trying, and Merlin pined from afar. He would have done anything to get Arthur to feel something toward him, but there was nothing he could do. So, Merlin made sure Arthur only ever saw the regal king who ran Camelot, the one who was kind but demanded respect the same. _It's better this way,_ he constantly told himself, looking away whenever Arthur met his eyes, trying to erase the burst of pain he felt in his gut. They had to stick to formalities.

 

Now, Merlin paced in the throne room. It was empty, but he awaited Arthur's arrival as well as some of his other knights, to deliver his announcement. Camelot, though peaceful to many of the nearby kingdoms, suffered the fate of being the only one to classify magic as legal in all cases except those that impacted the already written laws. In comparison, Cenred's kingdom only allowed magic for household use and healing purposes, while King Lot only allowed it for use by his knights in combat. While these, along with the kingdom of Nemeth, who did not legalize magic at all, were in a good relationship with Camelot, others were fearful of the power King Emrys now held over them.

 

They had declared war. Merlin had tried to keep the peace initially, but they did not listen. Now there was a league of Saxons, led by King Alined, marching toward Camelot, and he had to do something to stop his kingdom from being harmed. He had to do this, had to _protect his people_ —it was why he became king in the first place.

 

The doors opened and Arthur walked in with purpose, and a furious glint in his eye; it was obvious he already knew what was happening. He stopped in front of Merlin, who had stopped pacing and stood ramrod straight with his hands folded neatly behind his back. They faced each other.

 

"Arthur, I need you to have the men ready themselves to ride out as soon as possible. We have to meet the Saxons before they reach the border." Merlin said.

 

"Of course. What are your own plans?"

 

"I will be riding out as well, but not with you. There's something I must do first, but rest assured I will be with you before the battle begins."

 

"What is it that you need to do?" Arthur asked, a bit forcefully, as if questioning why Merlin wouldn't be on the front line along with everyone else right away, ready to sacrifice his life.

 

"Don't- don't overthink this, Arthur. The last thing I would ever do is abandon my people, you must know that."

 

"I do. I _know_ of your unwavering loyalty and idiotic bravery that could very well lead you to your own death," Arthur smirked, before he dropped it and turned serious, "I was wondering if I could come along."

 

"While I appreciate the sentiment, this is something I must do _alone_. I need you here, leading the knights on the right path while I'm not around." Merlin stated, holding up a hand to stop Arthur as he had unintentionally stepped closer while they were speaking. Arthur's shoulders visibly dropped in defeat, and Merlin hated it when he saw the frown fall on his face. _"I'm sorry, Arthur."_ And somehow, the apology encompassed all of the things Merlin had done to wrong Arthur since he'd taken the throne. He knew it wasn't enough—it would _never_ be enough, but it was all he could give at the moment.

 

"It's alright, thank you, Merlin. I understand that you need to do what you have to." Arthur responded, earnestly. He turned to leave, walking to the door with Merlin watching after him, before turning back at the last second. "Merlin?" He called, catching Merlin's eye. "Be careful." And Merlin smiled at him, the soft sort that had always only ever been reserved for Arthur in times like these.

 

"You know I always am."

 

~•~

 

The battle was about to begin, but Merlin was nowhere to be seen. Arthur had already taken up his spot at the front of the line, watching from the top of the cliffs as the Saxons approached the borders of Camelot from afar. His knights would make their way into the valley as the sun began to set, and the battle would begin at nightfall. If all went well, this would be the _only_ battle, Camelot would rise against the enemy and walk away almost entirely unscathed.

 

Oh, how unrealistic that vision was, but it was all that helped Arthur plow forward, along with the assurance that Merlin _would_ come. They would not be left to their own devices and their king, known to be the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, strived to return to them and aid in the fight. When he arrived, the Saxons would stand no chance.

 

"Sire, are you ready?" Leon asked, from somewhere behind him. The battalion had already begun their descent down the cliff, taking the grown-in narrow walkways that led to the bottom. Arthur let out a sigh and looked up toward the quickly darkening sky, as if searching for Merlin among the stars. After scouring it, he found no trace of the king—not that he had intended to. Without him there, Arthur felt... lost, almost. As if he had no idea what to do, how to think clearly, when Merlin wasn't around. He felt like his world had shifted entirely, but now, he was back in the same place he had been before Merlin took the crown. He held the entire Camelot army in his palm—and the lives of her citizens, as well.

 

"Yes. Prepare to attack as soon as the Saxons charge toward us. Do not let our men move first." Arthur ordered, and Leon nodded before going off to deliver the message. Once again, Arthur glanced down at the men, his knights, _Merlin's knights_ , readying themselves to fight for the lives of themselves and their loved ones. He thought of Morgana, hoping she and the rest of the Druids were safe, far away from any harm that could come upon them. Lastly, Merlin came into his mind, and he hoped, sorely, that this wouldn't be the end for either of them. Even if he hadn't seen it, Arthur knew Merlin would fight just like he did anything else: throwing himself in head first. He would endanger his own life as if it was nothing, as if he hadn't grown a beautiful kingdom in such a short amount of time.

 

As if Arthur wasn't waiting for him to come out of it alive. As if _Arthur_ wasn't waiting to be able to see Merlin's face again, smiling brightly and picking up children in the lower town like the wonderful king he was; smiling brightly at Arthur, even after it all, like the wonderful man he was.

 

When he let out a breath, his shoulders shook. Another glance downward into the ravine showed the Saxons and Camelot were about to meet. Arthur realized with haste that he had to get down there to lead his men in the fight at the head of the battle. He ran, descending the walkways the fastest he could manage, and when he reached the bottom he started pushing himself through the bodies of his knights, eager to reach the front before anything truly began. Before he could, however, there was a vicious roar up in the sky.

 

Everyone looked upward simultaneously, seeing a giant red _dragon_ with their very own eyes, as well as a smaller white one following behind. They flew overhead and landed at the top of the cliff Arthur had only just descended, and a man climbed off; Arthur _knew_ it was Merlin. There was no one else it could possibly be.

 

 _He's here,_ Arthur thought, a wave of content flowing through him at the sight. They would be fine, Camelot would be fine, now that Merlin had arrived.

 

 _Didn't really think I was going to leave you alone, did you?_ Merlin's voice found its way into Arthur's head, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

 

_Didn't I tell you to stay out of my head? Get down here, we'll need you._

 

_As much as I would like to, I will be staying back. There's much more I can do from afar than in close combat._

 

 _You'll be in their direct line of sight, Merlin, you'll be vulnerable_.

 

_I can handle myself._

 

 _At least–_ Arthur felt as the connection between them was cut. He groaned. Merlin had always been stubborn and he would never change. The bodies of the knights around him yelled, synchronized as one entity, and pushed forward around him and _the battle began_. He was a little disappointed that he had never reached the front and couldn't lead his men in the fight, but Merlin was far more important than his own pride, and he was sure Leon had handled everything at the head perfectly. Right now, protecting Merlin was his first priority.

 

Arthur let the waves of men shoving each other around him move as he struggled in the opposite direction. When he finally made it to the very back, he saw Merlin making his way down into the ravine, and his dragons had flown up and over to the other side, breathing fire over the Saxons. If things continued like this, Arthur knew the battle would be won in a matter of minutes. As Merlin reached him, he grabbed Arthur's wrist and pulled him along along the sides of the battle.

 

"Where are we going?" Arthur asked.

 

"We have to take care of Alined—he'll be in the very back, not wanting to endanger himself. He won't expect it if we go straight to him."

 

"I thought you wanted to stay back? Let me handle this." Arthur tried, pulling his wrist and stopping while Merlin continued to attempt to drag him along. Then, Merlin stopped, turning around to look at Arthur, but he kept his grip strong around Arthur's wrist.

 

"Arthur, this man is ruthless. He'll have his best warriors beside him, rather than sending them to risk their lives in the bloody battle. You can't do this alone." Merlin explained, and while Arthur wanted to argue, he knew there was no way around it. He and Merlin would have to face Alined together if they wanted to rise as victorious. So, he didn't argue and simple let Merlin tug him around the fight, up and around onto a ledge Arthur hadn't even seen before.

 

They weren't at the top of the ridge, but they were alongside it, where their feet were only a little above level with the knights' heads. While the two of them were treading along the narrow walkway, Arthur noticed the knights in battle hadn't even taken a single glance at them, even when they'd been close. When he looked to Merlin for a explanation, he realized there was a bubble around them, which Merlin was holding up with his outstretched fingers. They were concealed, then, unbeknownst to the fighting men as they risked their own lives battling the Saxons.

 

Arthur and Merlin pushed on, passing the center of the battle and onto the opposing side—Arthur was sure that if they hadn't been concealed they would have been pulled under. Alined's men all had a rough look to them, not clean-cut like Arthur's, who all held up the knight's code. Alined's were on the edge of savagery, it seemed, where none of them were wearing armor and their bodies were marked with painted symbols of war. It wasn't magic, couldn't be, not when magic was the reason they were at war in the first place. There was something else about them, though; they didn't need armor, as Arthur watched. They were so skillfully trained that they met each of Arthur's knights as an equal match. When one of them fell, it was with a blade pushed through their center, but that had always been a noble way to die.

 

Arthur drew his eyes away from the battle as he and Merlin continued onward. They had reached the end of the path, which stopped at the top of the cliff on the opposite side of the ravine. From their position they could see Alined clearly, standing away from them with six men guarding and surrounding him. He wouldn't be able to see them, not when Merlin still had the bubble surrounding them.

 

"Alright, I can handle his men, but I want you to go straight for Alined. I'll cover you, just focus on him." Merlin said.

 

"Are you sure you'll be able to deal with all of them? Shouldn't we take them out and then try to attack Alined together?"Arthur asked, knowing they would probably have a better chance if they worked together.

 

"If we look away even for a second, Alined will run—he's more interested in saving his own life than fighting for it, the coward." Merlin responded, a long-grown disgust layered into his voice, "you're going to have to hold him from running until I've dealt with all of them. If you have the chance to kill him, you know what to do."

 

Arthur nodded, understanding completely. Alined was their biggest threat—with him dead, Camelot would prosper in trade and complete _peace_. War would simply be a distant memory in their minds as everything lived on past it and _thrived_. That such a reality was even possible made Arthur realize how different Merlin's rule was from his father's. His father had almost always had enemies, or someone who tried to kill him for revenge or even their own selfish desires. In all his time in Camelot during Merlin's rule, not once in all the feasts or meetings had there ever been a single assassination attempt.

 

That alone said what was necessary about Merlin's rule.

 

The two of them crept toward Alined and his men slowly, still concealed as they they closed in on them. At the last second, Merlin dropped his magic and Arthur immediately drew his sword on Alined, who met it with a rough parry, but Arthur held his stance. It wasn't hard for him to pull away and then swing another, but that attempt was also blocked. While Arthur had known Alined was a strong swordsman, he hadn't expected the brute force behind his movements. He fought with skill, but similarly to his men who had no mind for technicalities. If there was a chance for a cheap but effective thrust, Alined would take it—but Arthur wasn't planning on letting that happen.

 

He pulled back, breathing heavily and risking a glance over to where Merlin was dealing with the six other men. Merlin had already made three of them fall, to which Arthur was glad. However, the other three had circled him and left no way for him to escape. As much as Arthur _ached_ to run over and aid him somehow, he knew his first priority was killing Alined. He looked back toward his opponent and found him smirking. Arthur held his stance as they circled each other, his eyes never leaving Alined's face, ready to strike at even the slightest movement.

 

"Arthur _Pendragon_ , eh? Son of _Uther_ Pendragon, slayer of the dragons and sorcery. What would your father say, _Arthur_? He might even _approve_ of me killing you, after you've betrayed him like this." Alined taunted, and Arthur clenched his teeth. He would not let his enemy get under his skin so easily. "He and I, we were friends, you know. We both had the same opinions on sorcery—that it and all those infected with it should die, as they would bring nothing but evil to the world. And I now have the truth directly in front of me, you've become _one of them_ , and you deserve to die for it." Alined ran straight for Arthur, his sword ready for a thrust directly into Arthur's body. However, Arthur dodged before it could reach its destination, barely evading the edge of the blade from scraping across his skin.

 

Immediately, he followed up with a swing of his blade across Alined's open side; it was a cheap shot, but if Arthur expected to win, he needed to think and act like his opponent. His blade slid deep past the chainmail and Arthur could feel as it pierced and cut through skin. When he drew back again, the edge of his sword was tinted red with the blood that dripped down to the sharp tip. Because of it, Arthur barely heard Alined groan with an arm over his wound before his gripped his sword tighter and tried to swing at Arthur again. At the last second, Arthur met him with a fierce parry that almost made Alined fall to his knees. The thought that victory was close propelled Arthur forward, giving him a new strength that he hadn't had when the fight had begun.

 

While holding his stance as Alined pushed against him—weakly, now that he was injured and didn't have as much resilience left—Arthur pulled away brusquely. Even in his current state, Alined managed to catch himself on his feet, but Arthur didn't miss the way his arm shifted to protect the cut in his side as he panted and fought to catch his breath. It gave Arthur another split second to glance in Merlin's direction, but he quickly found that Merlin and the guards had disappeared. He didn't want to think the worst, but the previous image of the guards surrounding Merlin was stuck in his mind. Should he have intervened earlier? Would it have made a difference?

 

Suddenly, Arthur was struck in the arm due to his lack of attention to Alined. He grimaced at the feeling of his skin being cut, but had been through similar pain so many times before he was almost used to it. Pulling back quickly, Arthur refocused on Alined, who seemed to be on his last limb. The wound in his side was visibly bleeding out more than any trained knight would be able to handle, so Arthur knew that at the least he would only have to hold out until Alined fell from blood loss and exhaustion. They stared at each other, neither moving.

 

"You are a skilled fighter, I must say," Alined said, "It seems your father was at least able to teach you one thing that didn't go to complete waste." As he spoke, Arthur noticed Merlin appear behind him, and at first, he had to hold in a gasp because he didn't want Merlin to be revealed. However, they did meet eyes and Merlin nodded at him as he began to slowly sneak up behind Alined, who kept speaking, probably wanting to delay his imminent death. "You have betrayed your father, Pendragon, if you still wish to save his legacy and everything he represents, you could _join me_. We could rule over the whole of Albion together, with the people _at our feet_. No sorcerers would ever dare try to–,"

 

His phrase was cut off as Merlin shoved the sword directly through his middle. He coughed, falling to the ground as the bloody weapon was pulled out. But as he fell, he began laughing manically.

 

"It's over, Alined." Merlin said, "You've lost." But Alined continued to laugh.

 

"I may have lost, _Emrys_ , but _you_ have not _won_."

 

And Arthur felt a blade thrust through his gut, and he looked down as it was pulled free. He dropped his own sword to the ground and lifted a finger to touch as the blood seeped rapidly out of the wound. He fell to his knees, and looked up as he vaguely heard Merlin yell. But then his vision blurred, and he planted face first into the hard rock beneath him. He breathed out, and all of his senses gradually diminished until they were _no more._


	7. chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here i am!! as promised, the second to last chapter!!   
> the last chapter is going to be the epilogue, (which i will be working diligently on to get out as fast as possible) so while things may seem to be wrapped up at the end here I strongly encourage y'all to read the epilogue, i still have one more thing left up my sleeve ;)  
> thank you and I hope you love it!

_"Uther Pendragon," Cornelius Sigan addressed. He stood in the throne room, alone with Uther after having secured the citadel by himself. "King of Camelot," he smirked, "how does it feel to know you've been defeated? That magic is going to return to Camelot, and it is going to prosper. And you will not be able to see your kingdom at the highest point it has ever been because you are too much of a fool to be able to see what magic could have done for you." Sigan took steps toward where Uther stood in front of the throne, but Uther stood tall. However, his eyes betrayed his strong stance, as they showed the fear he was trying to avoid revealing. He knew he had lost._

_"You cannot win, Sigan. My son will defeat you." Uther tried, attempting to gain some confidence with the belief that Arthur could,_ would _win. Sigan gave a heinous sounding laugh._

_"Leave your son to me, Uther. I will handle him like I have handled you." And then Sigan took out his hand from behind his back, faced his outspread palm toward Uther an clenched his fingers, slowly drawing them inward. Uther's body crunched, releasing a sickly sound as his bones were broken and his neck was snapped. His lifeless body crumpled onto the ground, and his blank eyes stared up toward the ceiling as Sigan came over and patted his cheek condescendingly. "I'm going to enjoy taking your kingdom Uther. I'm sorry you'll never get to see it."_

_Sigan's steps echoed in the throne room as he walked out, leaving Uther's body behind him to rot._

_~•~_

_"Join me, Merlin. Imagine the possibilities." Sigan smirked at him. "Uther is already dead. He can no longer torment our kind. With you by my side, we will conquer Camelot, and the prince will fall." His smirk dropped, and his face now showed a serious look, with a hint of anger. "How can you let him use you as if you were insignificant? You could defeat him easily, but you let him treat you as a lowly peasant, when you should be ruling over him, why?"_

_Merlin stood, the crystal clenched tightly in his right hand. He had to do it, he knew he did. But... what if there was another option? If he took back Sigan's soul, Arthur would be king after the death of his father... and his hatred of magic would only grow. There had to be some way for Merlin to show Arthur that magic wasn't inherently evil, and that it didn't corrupt. But in order to do that, he would have to initially sacrifice his relationship with Arthur, and it might not even be what it was ever again._

_If it didn't work, it was likely that Arthur would never forgive him. That in itself made Merlin not want to do it, when the last thing he wanted was for Arthur to see him as an enemy, not after it had taken them so long to become friends. But what else could he do? It was either this, or to let Arthur's hatred for magic grow to levels where it might be impossible to bring back. When Merlin thought of it like that, it seemed there was only one thing he could do._

_Merlin dramatically dropped the crystal. Sigan's smirk reappeared at the sight of it._

_"You made the right choice, Emrys." He made to turn around, signaling a hand for Merlin to follow, but Merlin didn't move._

_"Wait." Merlin commanded. Sigan turned to face him. "If we're going to do this,_ I _will be the one on the throne. You will be my advisor." At first, Sigan looked taken aback at the request, as if he would never agree to it. He opened his mouth to speak, but Merlin continued before he could say anything. "Remind yourself of who I am, Cornelius. You may be powerful but we are both aware of how my abilities compare to yours." And then, Sigan's mouth shut, realizing that Merlin was right. He was speaking to the most powerful sorcerer that had ever been, and here, he was being forced to make the decision of whether to submit or to create an enemy that had the ability to ruin him._

 _The decision was simple, after it all. Sigan had no other options, and Merlin was completely aware of that. He used it to his advantage—with himself on the throne, he could control anything that happened within the kingdom, and Camelot would not spiral down into a dark oblivion. Merlin had no idea how to be a king, but he could learn, he_ would _learn for Arthur. Until Arthur knew that Merlin would do anything for him, anything for Camelot—anything that would show him that Merlin's magic had only ever been used for_ good.

_"Of course," Sigan finally responded, "right this way, my lord." His grotty smile reappeared, but it didn't look as sinister as it had before. Merlin stood up straight, motioning for Sigan to lead the way. As soon as his back was turned, Merlin reached down to pick up the crystal, pocketing it before Sigan could ever see it. Then, he followed as they walked past the destruction in the courtyard and up into the citadel._

_It had officially begun, and Merlin would face whatever troubles he was given with the strength he knew he had. He would do it for Arthur._

_~•~_

_"ARTHUR!"_  Merlin yelled. He watched as Arthur fell onto the hard ground, his body becoming lifeless within seconds. Immediately, rage filled him like it never had before. If Arthur died, everything he'd done would have been for nothing. Moreover, Merlin would never forgive himself if he let Arthur die. He would put himself at fault—all his magic, and he couldn't even keep Arthur alive?

Merlin wouldn't let his enemies win. He  _roared_ , like the dragons he commanded, up and into the sky, clenching his fists. Kilgharrah and Aithusa followed suit, responding to the call of agony from their master.

All of the Saxons dropped in their steads. The one who had shoved his sword into Arthur fell to the ground, his last breath taken in midair before his body crashed gracelessly. Merlin couldn't feel any remorse for ending the battle so suddenly, not even that he didn't allow them honorable deaths. All he could think about was  _Arthur, Arthur, Arthur,_ and he wouldn't let anything get in the way of saving him. He ran over to Arthur's body and kneeled beside him, fatigue already running through him after his vigorous display of magic.

Merlin touched the wound and Arthur's blood coated his hands like thin gloves spread over his palms. He shivered at the unwanted thought of Arthur bleeding out, and Merlin being too late to save him. Immediately, he set to work, lightly pressing down on Arthur's chest and beginning to speak an incantation.

 _"Vivo meum regem, tu dorsum vestrum est regnum accipe."_  Merlin's eyes glowed golden, overflowing with the power seeping from his every vein. Behind him, he heard the sound of boots on stone, and knew some of the knights must have come up to find him. He felt as Leon came to stand beside him, but continued to focus all of his attention into Arthur's wound. However, as he continued to draw in his magic, he found that the incantation was not working, and Arthur's stomach still remained bloody with a gash straight through the middle.

 _No, no, no,_ Merlin thought, not understanding why it wasn't working. It  _had_ to work, Arthur couldn't die, he  _couldn't._ He meant too much, and they had only just begun to acclimate to each other in their new positions, there was still so much potential for their relationship to return to what it had been, Arthur  _couldn't die._

 _"Vivo meum regem, vivo!"_ Merlin cried, as the blood continued to soak his hands and now had dripped onto his robes. His eyes continued to stay gold, as he continued to focus his magic on stitching together Arthur's skin and repairing his internal organs. However, his efforts were in vain as nothing he tried worked, and a light press of his thumb to the side of Arthur's neck revealed that his pulse was quickly dying.  _"NO!"_ Merlin sobbed, tears abruptly falling down his face. He gave up the act of a powerful king, not caring enough when his best friend, whom he loved so deeply and hopelessly, could be dying in front of him.

"My lord... Merlin..." Leon called, softly, trying to draw Merlin's eyes away from continuing to look down at Arthur's fading life. Merlin looked up at him and sniffled, rubbing a sleeve over his face to wipe his tears, and cringing as he felt already drying blood stains upon them.

"I will not give up, Leon. Not while he still has breaths left in him." Merlin declared, and then an idea came to him. If a regular spell wouldn't work, there was another option... "Stand back." And Leon followed his order, as any loyal knight would. However, he stayed close enough to observe as Merlin lifted his hands from Arthur's stomach and wiped them on his robe. Then, he placed them over Arthur's chest and shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. He didn't speak, or incant, but he simply stayed there.

 _Come on, Arthur, please, you can't leave me now, not like this,_ Merlin thought. Once again, he drew on his magic, but from a different place, and for a different reason. When it happened, he felt it—his eyes opened of their own accord, and they shone entirely golden, emitting a brightness almost equivalent to that of the sun. Then, golden lines of light traced themselves down his arms, visible through his sleeves, and ran down each of his fingers and over onto his palms. His palms were emanating the same light as his eyes. Then, the light ran down Arthur chest to his wound and outlined it, before releasing a brightness the same as Merlin's palms and eyes.

The onlookers, which included Leon and a few other knights, couldn't begin to comprehend what Merlin was doing. Even the magic users, skilled men who had studied all that they could, didn't know what Merlin was doing. The light grew brighter still, and eventually everyone had to look away for fear of blinding themselves.

Merlin watched as Arthur's skin stitched itself back together and the wound and all evidence of it disappeared. He smiled, exhausted, as all of the light from his body faded. He looked up, and his knights cheered, grateful that Arthur was alive. As Leon came forward, however, Merlin's smile vanished, and his eyes rolled back into his head as he fainted directly on top of Arthur.

 _At least he's alive_ , was Merlin's last thought.

_~•~_

When Arthur awoke, it was sudden and in the middle of the night. He was in his bed, in Camelot, and the only source of light was a candle on his bedside. Panting, he sat up, groaning at the feeling of his sore limbs. Within a second, he remembered the battle, Merlin killing Alined, a blade being thrust through his body, and Merlin yelling his name—where  _was_  Merlin? Had he made it out alive?

At that thought, one of his chamber doors opened, and in walked Merlin, who waved a hand and lit all of the candles and the fire. At the sight of him, Arthur remembered the  _visions._ His father, Cornelius Sigan,  _Merlin,_  he had seen the three of them in their various roles. Sigan was planning on taking the crown, but Merlin  _stopped him_ , prevented him from turning Camelot into a living hell for all of her citizens. Merlin only took the crown because he  _had to_ , because there was no other option, otherwise the people would suffer, both magic and non-magic alike.

_Merlin's people would have suffered._

Merlin hadn't killed his father. Merlin had no hand in his father's death. He was completely innocent in that respect, and yet... Arthur had thought him entirely guilty, that he'd killed Uther alongside Sigan, as some sort of twisted game. Even as that idea had faded, as he and Merlin spent more time together as king and knight, he still hadn't gotten over the fact that though Merlin plead innocent, Arthur had always thought that he was lying—but he never had been.

"Merlin?" Arthur called out, his voice gravelly, looking over in the general direction where Merlin stood a few feet away from his bed, still in a haze from having only just woken up and having so many thoughts run through his head so suddenly. His eyes glazed over, and he had to blink a few times in order to clear them up.

"Arthur? Are you alright?" Merlin asked, cautiously, "You've been unconscious for three days, the knights told me." He handed Arthur a goblet of water, which had been sitting at the table across the room. Arthur took it and drank gratefully, before giving it back to Merlin so he could place it at Arthur's bedside.

"How... am I alive? The blade ran me through, I shouldn't–," Arthur tried to understand, to put himself back in the moment to remember if there was any way he could have had a chance to survive.

"Shouldn't you know the answer to that by now?" Merlin interrupted, sitting on the edge of the bed, and letting himself slouch. He wasn't wearing his formal robes, but rather a ratty old nightshirt and a pair of well-fitting breeches, which also seemed a little worse for wear. It was almost like Merlin was still dressing like himself when he had been a servant. "Magic, Arthur." He said, softly, as if afraid of Arthur's reaction.

"Thank you, Merlin. For everything you've done for me." Arthur said, "I had... visions, while I was unconscious... I saw you. I saw Sigan, and my father." Merlin's eyes widened, curious but also frightful. "Did you purposefully show me them?"

"I did not, but... I think it could have been a side effect of the magic I did to heal you. You see, Arthur, um, the initial spell didn't work, so I..." Merlin's speech decreased to a mumble, and even in the complete silence of Arthur's chambers, with only the fire flaring in the background, Arthur could not hear him.

"What? What did you do?"

"I... transferred some of my magical energy to you. It's um, kind of like... a life force?" And Merlin immediately had to duck his head as Arthur had angrily pulled a pillow from his bed and started hitting him with it, consistently saying phrases like, "You did  _what?!"_  and  _"Merlin!"_ and "I did  _not_  give you permission to sacrifice your life for me!" And all Merlin could do was take it, not even bothering to avoid it as the pillow hit him in the head ten times over.

"Why would you do that?" Arthur asked, after he had finished hitting Merlin, sliding out of the covers and sitting beside him, with his feet touching the cold chamber floors. Merlin turned his head toward Arthur, but didn't respond right away, and didn't meet Arthur's eyes. Then, he sighed, and finally looked up.

"Arthur... I would never let you die. And if that means sacrificing myself, then so be it." Merlin met Arthur's eyes, and they stared into each other's eyes for a few moments, until Arthur turned his head, a blush coating his cheeks. However, he turned back to look at Merlin, though not meeting his eyes.

"Thank you, Merlin. For saving me—for saving the kingdom, and showing me that magic isn't something to fear. After seeing you take the crown from Sigan, preventing him from turning Camelot into hell for the citizens, I finally understand the extent of all you've done for me." Arthur said, unintentionally meeting Merlin's eyes again as he finished speaking. He knew, now, that Merlin was still  _Merlin_ , and that he hadn't ever been anyone else. There had never been a faux personality, just an undying need to  _help_ whenever he possibly could.

Morgana had begun to shift his perspective, while they were at the Druid camp, but after spending months in the citadel, going to war, and seeing what truly happened the night his father died, Arthur had no more doubts that Merlin had done everything for the sake of his people, for the sake of  _Arthur_. He had always been a devoted servant, even though he was terrible at all his duties, he had a heart of gold, and Arthur was sure it still gleamed brightly, though it had initially seemed to be encased in darkness. Merlin had always been beautiful, but his pure soul only made him look even more captivating.

"Arthur... I want you to know that I've done this all for you, and before, I only ever used my magic for you, whenever you were in danger. Then, and now, I would do  _anything_ for you." Merlin admitted, with a quivering lip and watery eyes. Arthur's understanding meant so much—he couldn't handle the fact that it had finally happened. There would be no pyre, no fire burning with Merlin's name written in the flames, and the thought of that brought tears to his eyes. He glanced away and sniffled, trying to prevent the tears from falling, but he couldn't.

"Merlin..." Arthur said, lifting his hand to wipe a single tear away from Merlin's cheek, but keeping his hand there, cupping Merlin's face and meeting his eyes for the third time. Without thinking, Arthur started leaning in, shutting his eyes and hoping,  _hoping_  at the last second that Merlin wouldn't push him away, wouldn't be disgusted at the thought of Arthur touching him like this.

Their lips met, unmoving and chaste, and Merlin whimpered, pressing closer and giving in to what he's wanted for so long. He couldn't believe that after it all, Arthur could still want him like this, after Merlin had taken the crown without explanation. But here they were, at the end of it all, and Arthur was more accepting of the truth than Merlin could have ever hoped he would be. It was all he had wanted and more.

Arthur swiped his tongue over Merlin's bottom lip and Merlin opened up in every way; his hands reaching up to grasp at Arthur's hair, his head tilting just right to let Arthur's tongue slip into his mouth, and his kisses becoming more passionate as he responded perfectly. A hand around his waist pulled him forward and his legs up onto Arthur's lap, while another hand slid down to wrap around his thigh to hold him in place.

They pulled away from each other for a moment, catching their breaths with unwavering smiles on their faces. Merlin hid his face in Arthur's shoulder, still with his hands playing with the hair at the back of Arthur's neck. Then, he was gently pushed down to lie back on the bed, before moving up toward the headboard to rest his head on a pillow. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, Merlin took a deep breath before opening them again to see Arthur above him, looking down at him with a smile on his face. Merlin smiled back, though bashfully because it felt unusual to be looked at with such adoration. Even being a king hadn't gotten him used to it.

Merlin lifted his hand and placed it on Arthur's cheek, rubbing his thumb over the cheekbone as Arthur leaned into it. The two of them shared a few smiles before Arthur leaned down again to claim Merlin's lips, and he was met enthusiastically. When he pulled away, he kissed a line over Merlin's jaw down to his neck, and when he reached his destination Merlin let out a moan. At the sound, Arthur snaked his hand up under Merlin's shirt before resuming sucking a bruise onto Merlin's pale neck. He touched warm skin, tracing ribs upward until he was pulling Merlin's shirt up with him.

Sitting back, Arthur let Merlin sit up so he could pull his shirt off completely, before following suit with his own. As soon as there was nothing but warm skin between them, they reached for each other again, almost aching to feel the hot brush of their skin together. This time, Arthur slipped his leg in between Merlin's thighs, grinding down and watching as Merlin moaned loudly and threw his head back, his eyes falling shut in reaction to the pleasure coursing through his body. Arthur wanted to see Merlin like that over and over again, wanted to be the only one to see him at the heights of pleasure.

After Merlin's head came forward again, he let his hands skim up Arthur's stomach, feeling a hard abdomen as they glided up toward a strong chest. His thumbs purposefully ran over Arthur's nipples, already hard from being released from his shirt. It brought the reaction Merlin was looking for, making Arthur lose his breath and a low whine erupt in the back of his throat. He let his forehead drop to Merlin's chest and sucked another bruise over his heart in retaliation. Then, he lifted his head up to admire it, not being able to for long before Merlin was tugging him closer to smash their lips together. It distracted him, Merlin's tongue pressing up against his, slipping into his mouth and only just gliding over his teeth. Arthur wasn't able to hold himself down as Merlin pushed him over so he was on top.

 _"Merlin..."_  Arthur breathed, raspy, looking up at the beautiful being above him. Merlin responded with a kiss, just pecking Arthur's lips for a second before pulling away and leaving a trail of them down Arthur's neck and chest. When he reached the bulge over Arthur's breeches, he grabbed for the waistband and pulled it down with no remorse. Arthur's cock was released, and Merlin heard a gasp of relief from somewhere in front of him, but he was far too focused on the bright red flush of Arthur's skin from head to toe.

It was  _hot,_  and the sudden rush of desire that flooded through Arthur from being released from his breeches made him almost  _ache_ for Merlin's touch. He groaned, stretching down and pulling them off entirely, throwing them off to the side to be forgotten. Merlin had finally come out from his state of reverence, and the tips of his fingers had found their way to lightly stroke down Arthur's stomach, making him shiver. Then he closed a hand around the shaft and tugged downward, revealing the bright pink tip and awaking a moan in Arthur, now that he was finally being touched.

Merlin heard the reaction and knew exactly what to do to make it increase tenfold. He lowered his head, keeping his eyes up to see Arthur looking back at him, before placing a kiss at the tip and moving down to lave up the underside of the shaft with his tongue. Arthur moaned again, throwing his head back and gripping a hand into Merlin's soft hair. Merlin continued the same ministrations several times, as Arthur's hand tightened with the need for Merlin's lips around him growing intensely.

Finally, Merlin wrapped his lips around the head of Arthur's cock and gave a hard suck, and Arthur arched his back in response to the thick waves of pleasure shooting up his body. Merlin's hands grasped at his hips, pushing him down so he could lower his head farther down Arthur's shaft. The hand in his hair loosened, favoring stroking and pulling at the hair at the back of his neck. Every moan that came from Arthur only made Merlin want to suck harder, to drag him closer to his climax.

 _"Fuck, Merlin..."_  Arthur keened, using both hands to pull Merlin off of him, both of them completely breathless. After pulling himself up, Merlin gave Arthur a curious look, and Arthur used it as an opportunity to roll them over again, with Merlin beneath him. They met eyes, "I don't want it to end so quickly." The mood shifted, and gone was the desperate urge to pull each other into the depths of release, leaving behind a loose search for it instead.

" _Oh_ ," Merlin said, "alright," he smiled, and trailed his fingers over the hair at the back of Arthur's neck. Shutting his eyes, Merlin leaned up to accept Arthur's lips against his own, savoring the calm feeling for a moment as they both readjusted to the lower intensity. Arthur's hands found their way to Merlin's sides, touching the soft skin while sliding down before taking hold of Merlin's trousers and tugging them down. Merlin obliged easily, lifting his legs up to allow for them to be pulled off, leaving him completely bare. He shivered, not from the rush of cold air, but rather from the feeling of Arthur's eyes on him.

When Merlin glanced up, Arthur was looking down at him, at  _his body_ , with a gaze full of warmth and adoration. He leaned down again to mouth over Merlin's neck, letting his hands glide over Merlin's chest, down to his hips and over to squeeze his buttocks. Arthur molded them in his hands, loving how it made Merlin whimper and yearn for more. Leaving a bruise over Merlin's neck, he lifted his head to see it, but was immediately pulled down to meet Merlin's mouth with his own. Then, he let his tongue slip into Merlin's mouth, and was surprised when Merlin sucked it into his mouth. Arthur moaned at the feeling.

Merlin's erection had been neglected until then, so Arthur reached a hand down—reluctantly removing it from where he had been holding Merlin's arse—and gripped it, tugging down and loving how Merlin bucked up into his palm, whining. Pulling away from Arthur's mouth, Merlin looked up and into Arthur's eyes. His hands held fast to Arthur's shoulders, not tight or slack, but enough for Arthur to know what he was asking for. He didn't say anything—nothing came from his mouth but a slow pant, trying to catch his breath—but he didn't need to. Arthur knew what he wanted.

Sitting up on his knees, Arthur reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer, reaching in to grab hold of the bottle of oil hidden beneath the unorganized mess inside. He had originally kept it there for dark nights by himself, his hands reaching for places he would never even suggest in the light. Now wasn't the time for that, however, now was for all his attentions to be focused on Merlin, to make him feel the heights of the highest pleasure he will have ever known. Arthur knew he had never done this before, after Merlin had spilled the truth one late night they were alone and had drank too much, years ago. Merlin was in tears, that night, ashamed of himself, and Arthur, still young and ignorant, hadn't known how to deal with it, distributing a lighthearted pat on the back and assuring Merlin it would happen sooner or later.

Arthur had never thought he would find himself in that exact place, but he was determined, now. Merlin was trusting him with this, even after all they had gone through in the past months, and all Arthur could do was try to show that he would not abuse what he was given.

First, Arthur pulled a pillow from the many that were strewn around and coaxed Merlin to place it under his hips. Then, meeting Merlin's eyes, Arthur leaned down again to attach their lips, and a tense feeling left Merlin's shoulders as he full-bodily sighed into Arthur. Slowly, Arthur reached down and used his free hand to persuade Merlin, with a soft touch to his inner thigh, to spread his legs apart. Without detaching their mouths, Merlin agreed eagerly and obeyed, spurred on with the want coursing through him as a result of Arthur's wondrous mouth. He was nervous, but he wouldn't let it stop him from finally having what he had wanted for so long. And Arthur was here, in front of him, willing and strong, and Merlin still couldn't believe everything that had happened since the battle.

Kneeling back, Arthur rubbed a hand over Merlin's thigh, meant to relax, before pouring oil onto his fingers and reaching down to touch Merlin's rim. The first touch caused a shiver to crawl up Merlin's spine, but it only heightened his desire for more. He whined as Arthur circled the tight ring of skin slowly, shutting his eyes right before Arthur pushed the first finger in and flinching at the intrusion. Arthur placed a comforting hand on Merlin's leg, and Merlin immediately relaxed at the feeling.

"Alright?" Arthur asked, softly, a whisper over the crackling of the fire across the room. Merlin couldn't do much more than nod vigorously, wanting to get a move on. Arthur understood it for what it was, and continued to work his finger in and out of Merlin, noticing as Merlin became more comfortable and began to enjoy it. Then, he added in a second finger alongside the first, twisting and pushing until he found the spot that made Merlin moan out loudly. From then on, it was all whines and grunts for more, until Merlin forcibly pulled Arthur down to kiss him while simultaneously fucking himself up and down on Arthur's fingers.

When Arthur pushed the third finger in, Merlin barely noticed, too far gone, until after Arthur pulled them out entirely. Merlin whimpered at the loss, but watched as Arthur pushed himself up to his knees again, slicking up his cock with more oil before kneeling over Merlin and placing himself at Merlin's entrance. He looked up, reaching for one of Merlin's hands and taking it in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it before sliding in, slowly. He entwined his fingers with Merlin's, pressing his hands into the sheets and watching Merlin's face for any signs of discomfort. Though he saw none, he still paused to give Merlin a moment to adjust to the intrusion.

"Move, Arthur,  _please,_ " Merlin panted, longing for the heightened pleasure he had only just come to know. If this was how it always was, Merlin knew he would have a hard time letting go if Arthur decided to leave him come morning. It felt like all of his senses were over-sensitized, but the result was being able to internally feel things he never would be able to otherwise, and his magic simmered under his skin in response, only adding to the euphoria.

When Arthur started to thrust, it was slow and unsteady, trying to ease Merlin into it still while searching for a rhythm. Everything was hot, sweaty, and heady, and Arthur groaned at the feeling of it all surrounding him. He let go of Merlin's hands to lower himself to his forearms and start to mouth at Merlin's intoxicating neck, which, coupled with the unfaltering thrusts, made Merlin cry out and latch onto his shoulders. The touch only intensified the rush running through Arthur's body, and it felt like Merlin's skin on his own created a tingle over his entire body, pushing him toward his climax even faster.

" _Fuck_ , touch me, Arthur–," Merlin exclaimed, and Arthur could only oblige him, reaching down to take Merlin's leaking erection and somehow timing it with his thrusts. Merlin threw his head back against the pillow, his hair sticking to his forehead as he slowly became undone in front of Arthur's eyes. It was a sight, as Merlin came long stripes onto Arthur's hand and his stomach, where he looked at the height of ecstasy. Then, he slumped, and after the sight Arthur only needed to thrust a few times more until he, himself, was finishing inside of Merlin with a groan, and then sinking gracelessly on top of Merlin to ride out of the aftereffects.

Arthur nuzzled Merlin's neck, sighing contentedly as his heart rate began to drop. When their skin began to stick, he pulled out of Merlin and rolled over, immediately hearing Merlin's whimper at the loss of contact. Reluctantly, he stood from the bed and went over to the basin of water to fetch a rag, quickly returning to Merlin's side to gently clean his body. Merlin hummed in approval sleepily, and after Arthur finished he tossed the rag aside and climbed into the bed beside Merlin. They faced each other, shy even after all they'd said and done, and Merlin reached for Arthur's hand and took it in his; it gave Arthur the courage to speak.

"...What now, Merlin? Where do we go from here?" Arthur whispered, his face alighted only by the few candles Merlin had left lit. It felt unnatural, for Arthur, not knowing what was coming next. In the past, there had always been a clear future to reach, a goal, and after it there would be another. Now, however, the only constant Arthur had was Merlin, and it only felt right to ask him what would happen next.

Merlin sighed, but a smile quickly crossed his face afterward. It was the soft, mischievous sort that usually meant there was still something left to be revealed. Then, he was silent for a few minutes, and Arthur was about to question him, but then he finally spoke up.

"I was never  _meant_  to be king, Arthur." Merlin stated, and Arthur wondered why exactly he might have been saying this, when they both knew that already. The crown had been  _meant_  to stay on the Pendragon line.

"Of course you weren't, but–," Arthur started, meaning to say that Merlin had been fair and just, and the citizens loved him. Uther had never received that love when he had been king. 

"You didn't let me finish." Merlin interrupted, though softly, "it was never written in  _my_  destiny that I would be the king of Camelot. I'm not meant to keep this role." For some reason, Arthur's heart rate picked up again, at the thought of Merlin stepping down. At what cost? Who would rule?

"Then... what...? who...?" Arthur mumbled, and Merlin chuckled at his confusion, reluctantly removing his hand from Arthur's, but only to place it over Arthur's cheek instead. He traced his thumb over Arthur's cheekbone, feeling as Arthur leaned into the touch. They smiled at each other.

"It's  _you_ , Arthur.  _You_  are the Once and Future King of Camelot; it's been written in the stars since the beginning of time." Arthur had always known that Merlin had a destiny of his own, after Morgana had told him about  _Emrys_ , but he'd never suspected that there would be one for him.

"What about you, then, Merlin?" Arthur asked, curiously, "what's your destiny?" And Merlin smiled secretly, wondering how Arthur hadn't figured it out already.

"I'm  _Emrys,_ Arthur. It's my destiny to protect you from harm until the end of our days." And Arthur could only pull him forward to press their lips together, the air still smelling of sex, but unable to provoke them further than the tender kiss they shared.

After pulling away, the serious mood dispersed, leaving behind a light and playful feeling surrounding them. In the dark, Merlin regaled stories of the adventures Arthur's had but never experienced fully. Of the Questing Beast, giant spiders, and the Griffon, of Nimueh, the Great Dragon, and the tournaments; Arthur hadn't known all of what had really happened. He almost didn't believe Merlin, but the time for disbelief was over. Instead, he listened closely and followed every word Merlin said, learning more about Merlin's magic and the  _many_ times he'd sacrificed himself for Arthur. It was an awakening, in a way, another of the few of them he'd already had.

When the early sunlight drifted in through the windows, the two of them were holding each other close, Merlin's head pillowed on Arthur's chest. The stories had stopped a few hours before, but the time after was just spent together, peacefully having fallen asleep.

Merlin awoke first, but instead of getting out of bed, he stayed, enjoying the warmth and Arthur's presence. He shut his eyes, keeping his head on Arthur's chest and listening to his heart beat. Breathing a sigh, Merlin thought of what truly would happen from now, what the future would hold for the two of them. There were always going to be enemies, people who still held grudges against Uther, but they would face it, together. Never would either of them be forced to rule alone, ever again.

When Arthur woke up, Merlin rose from his spot and sat up in the bed. He watched as Arthur opened his eyes, immediately seeing Merlin and smiling. Merlin took Arthur's hand in his and kissed the back of it, cradling it in his own hands lovingly.

_"Are you ready for the new day, my king?"_

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading I really hope you liked it!!  
> kudos and comments are welcomed and encouraged!! please tell me if you like what's going on and your predictions for future chapters! <3


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